


I Know That I'll Lose

by Sunset_In_My_Veins



Category: The 1975 (Band)
Genre: And hilarity ensues, Bets, Drug Use, F/M, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Matty being a twat, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Two stubborn as shit people refuse to give in to the other, mentions of past drug addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 84,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23644543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunset_In_My_Veins/pseuds/Sunset_In_My_Veins
Summary: A terribly stubborn, mildly (at best) egotistical man happens to meet a girl just as hard headed as he is, who can't help but bite every time he fishes for attention."Don't set me a challenge if you aren't prepared to have it beaten."
Relationships: Matthew Healy/Original Female Character(s), Matthew Healy/Reader, Matty Healy/Reader
Comments: 51
Kudos: 42





	1. This is How it Starts

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guess what? I still write! I know, crazy, huh? This thing has been in the works for about eight months now and is finally ready. I wanted to make sure that it was completed so that I didn't leave anyone hangin', and that I was 100% happy with it before I started posting it. This thing has been read and re-read numerous times - a lot of care and effort went into preeeetty much all of it. There are hyperlinks scattered throughout the story. They don't add anything to the actual content, they kind of just provide context on certain moments, or reference where I pulled something from, or sometimes they're just a gif that makes me laugh. Click 'em if you want, don't if you don't want. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Anyway! Hopefully you guys might get some enjoyment out of it. As always, any thoughts and comments are always thoroughly appreciated. :D

Selling merchandise for a band was always seen by those who didn’t do it as this glorious job. Everyone always seemed to think that you must know the band, that you get all the free shit you want, you can give the discounts you want, that you control what the band sells, that you get to watch the show and then go home. But that’s not what it was _at all_. Merch was a lot of waking up early, receiving boxes, unpacking boxes, counting shirts, folding shirts, selling shirts, unfolding shirts, re-counting shirts, packing up shirts into boxes, then shipping boxes away and ending your day long after the last guest had left the venue. Rarely did you get to watch the show, sometimes you couldn’t even hear it depending on where the merch stand was located. You _definitely_ didn’t know the band, typically their manager reaches out to the brand label who will make or receive their merch and then they reach out to you. You receive what you’re given, sell it, send back what you don’t sell. Move on. The most you ever see of the band is what you can see from the back of the crowd over everyone else’s heads. And most certainly you don’t get free stuff. Everything is accounted for against the money taken in for the night, and losses are recorded. All of these things came to the forefront whenever a fan gave you a tough time for not stocking hoodies, or for not having some obscure item they wanted, or for complaining that the prices were too high and asking you to lower them, not understanding that you weren’t in control of any of that. Or better yet, asking you to ask the band something – because that was _definitely_ feasible when they had no idea who you were.

But, despite all this; it was a fun job. It meant chatting to people all night who were like minded and enjoyed music, especially if you were lucky and swung it so you could work merch for a band you actually enjoyed listening to and got to talk to other fans. The counting was, at the very least, simple and sometimes therapeutic. The long hours typically meant you always had time to get everything done, and they usually paid well - cash in hand at the end of a shift wasn’t something you got in many industries. Sometimes you could see the show from merch and enjoy it a bit while the crowd was occupied. Sometimes you were allowed to take a tour shirt home, if you were lucky. Sometimes, if you were _really_ lucky, the band came to the merch van to see how things were selling, or to make sure you got everything. It was always pretty cool whenever that happened. But it was exceedingly rare.

At the end of the day though, a job was a job and money was money. And money was exactly why Y/N had accepted the job selling merch with her brother for The 1975. But by the time the gig had rolled around, two months after his initial job offer to her, pleasure was the reason she was going. She had spent the last couple of months listening to them and learning a bit about the band. They were definitely worth listening to despite her original thoughts on their music, and all of a sudden she found that she regretted _working_ the concert as she would’ve preferred to have been _going_ to the concert. But the cash was needed. So, she would have to settle for this and maybe being able to hear a bit of the show from merch. Maybe she could sneak away during her break to catch a few songs. If she could get away from the merch van close to the end of their set, then she could catch The Sound and she’d be happy enough with that. As she counted the shirts, she put on some music in the background to get truly into the zone and tried to formulate a plan about how she could catch a few of her favourite songs. Maybe it could work… Her thoughts were eventually interrupted by her brother asking her if she’d seen the yellow ink.

“The what?”

“The yellow ink for the shirt pressing thing?” They had been given a strange contraption when they had come into the venue: A massive machine that they were told would be used to print new designs over old 1975 t-shirts for free if any fans brought them up. They were fairly sure they had worked out how to use it, but now they couldn’t find any ink to test it with. “I’ll go look for some. Maybe they have it boxed with the other stuff out the back. Be back soon!” He called as he walked out of the door, pulling it shut behind him.

She went back to counting and formulating plans. Fifteen minutes had passed with her being in the counting zone before she heard the door open again. “Hey, did you find the-” She spun around, only to come face to face with someone who wasn’t her brother as she had been expecting. He stood taller than her brother and had a messy mop of dark curls sitting on top of his head. He took off the sunglasses he was wearing and cleared his throat before speaking.

“Hi, erm, sorry for the intrusion.” He started as he smiled sheepishly. The British accent was thick in his tone, and she was already fairly certain she knew who this man was without an introduction. But it was probably better for her own nerves if she didn’t confirm or deny that. 

“No, no, it’s cool. How can I help?” She stopped counting the pile that she was in the middle of and set it aside, turning to face him properly now.

“I just wanted to come by and make sure that you knew what to do with the reprinted merch.” He continued as he gestured to the strange machine that they had been given. He felt awkward standing in here, like he shouldn’t touch anything. As much as this was his show, his band, his merch, he felt like he was intruding in a space that wasn’t his, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself. It had been a _long_ time since he’d sold any merch.

“Oh! Well, kind of.” She made her way over to the machine. “We were just looking for the ink for it, but I think we’ve worked out how to use it.” She demonstrated how they had been trialling the machine and he nodded in response. It felt good to know that they weren’t total idiots and had managed to work it out.

“It’s not too hard, you just have to make sure the shirt in it is really pulled tight so the pattern is right.” He grabbed a shirt from her pile that she had been in the middle of counting to demonstrate. She winced slightly as he ruined what would’ve been a perfect pile of ten, but let him take it. He loaded it into the machine and showed her how to get it to sit properly. “And did all of the boxes arrive? I tried to keep my eye on them when they came over with me on the plane but I lost track a few times because I didn’t have to grab them myself. We lost one at the last stop.” He ran a hand through his messy curls, trying to judge what was in the room and see if it looked correct.

“I think everything is here. It was 26 in total I believe that should’ve come with you and 21 already here.” He nodded. That sounded roughly right.

As he took in his surroundings, he noticed that she was also wearing one of their shirts. That was all the invitation he needed to snap out of the awkward feeling that had been looming over him and jump into his usual personality. “And I see you’re already modelling some for us.” He grinned with an eyebrow raised.

She glanced down at the tour shirt she was wearing. “Ah, standard policy to wear the shirt that there’s the most stock of to show it off.” She replied. “But I’m hoping I can start modelling the hoodie as soon as the sun sets.” She laughed. “I might even grab one. They look very comfy.”

“You should get the shirt you’ve got on.” He replied instantly. She looked at him with a slight hint of curiosity in her eyes. He paused for a beat, contemplating if he should continue his thought out loud. But he was never a man to censor his words. “It looks good on you.” His dark brown eyes held a certain sparkle in them when he said it, like he was waiting to see how she responded. She opened her mouth to reply, but her brain was taking a good moment to catch up to his words. Was that flirting? Or an offhand compliment? A mumbled ‘thanks’ was all that ended up coming out of her mouth before turning back to her counting to hide the red that was dusting her cheeks.

The conversation stilled between them, with the background noise of her phone quietly playing on the far side of the van being the only thing to fill the room. She had assumed that he had gotten all the info he needed and was on his way out. Should she ask for an autograph or something before he leaves? That might be weird. She doesn’t even know for sure that it’s him. He probably had more important stuff to attend to, anyway. And it looked like he _might_ have been about to turn and leave, until a familiar song started playing on her phone. The introduction to Tootime floated through the air as she stared down at her pile of shirts and mentally cursed herself for putting a playlist on shuffle that had 1975 songs in it. There were so many other songs in this playlist. Why did her phone have to betray her like this? “Nice music choice, by the way.” He smirked. “That band is pretty overrated, though. I hear the singer is a bit of a twat.” He chuckled at his own joke, but she was still so caught off guard that she was unsure whether to laugh, or if that would be rude. However, it definitely confirmed that he was who she suspected. Matthew Healy was currently giving her shit for listening to his music at his show _. God fucking dammit._

“Oh, I, uh…” She blushed furiously as she stared down at her phone. It would be too awkward to change the song now, the damage was already done. He laughed lightly.

“It’s fine. It’s nice to see people behind the scenes enjoying the music. Meet the fans and all that jazz.” He looked entirely too amused by her embarrassment, rocking onto the balls of his feet as he gauged her reaction.

“Well… I wasn’t a fan until I got the job if I’m honest. Only started listening to you guys about two months ago. I was a bit late to the boat on that one.” She shrugged, finally turning away from the offending device to look at him.

He let out a fake gasp and clutched at his heart. “I am deeply hurt by this information.” That managed to get a chuckle out of her.

“Truthfully, I had it on because I wasn’t sure if I’d actually be able to get away to see any of the show. We’re so far away from the stage here. I was hoping to sneak away to catch The Sound but I’d have to sprint back to merch as soon as it ends if you play it last.” She explained.

“Well…” He scratched at the back of his neck, mulling over the idea in his head briefly before voicing it. “Would you want to come and listen to it now?”

“What? Like on my phone?” She frowned in confusion.

“No, we can play it for you live. Now.” He elaborated.

“How?”

“We’re about to start soundchecking in a few minutes, I’ll just get the guys to play that instead of something else.” He had already dragged his friends into this mess of trying to impress a girl. It took him all of five minutes. He was certain they wouldn’t be pleased but they could suck it up.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t bother you like that. You need to actually test shit and make sure it’s all working.” She said as she shook her head.

“We can do all that playing any song. It doesn’t matter what ones we play.” He shrugged. “Assuming you’re allowed to leave here of course?” He asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

“I, um…” What on _earth_ was happening? This was not an offer to turn down, but it felt strange to accept it all the same. “Yeah, I can, I guess. I just need to lock the door so that nobody bursts in and steals armfuls of your shirts.” He flashed a triumphant grin.

“Let’s get going, then. I’d better not keep my boys waiting for too long or they’ll think I’ve abandoned them for some cute girl or something.” He watched her carefully out of the corner of his eye as he made the comment, seeing the blush return to her cheeks. He hadn’t planned to have a fun time messing with anyone today, but he certainly wasn’t complaining that the opportunity landed itself right in his lap.

She locked the merch door before they started walking down the corridors towards the stage. A pit of nerves had started to form in her stomach, but before she could start to internally freak out too much his voice snapped her out of it. “Oh! I have totally forgotten to introduce myself. Matty.” He said, holding his hand out for her to shake. As she took it, he pulled her slightly closer towards him. “But I feel like you might’ve already known that.” He added with a wink.

“I had a feeling.” She nodded, trying her best to hold his gaze and not chicken out as he continued to hold onto her hand. Was he just a forward sorta guy or was he actively flirting? Because it was pretty unmistakable at this point.

“And your name, love?” He raised his eyebrows, urging her to continue.

“Y/N/N.” She answered as he finally let go of her hand. She hated that it had an odd tingling feeling in it. She definitely didn’t need to fangirl over an attractive guy who was being incredibly nice right now. That would certainly not help anyone. So, she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. He nodded thoughtfully to himself at her answer, considering what that would be short for.

“Not Y/N?” He questioned.

“Not Matthew?” She countered, giving him a pointed look. He grimaced at the use of his full name. It reminded him too much of getting told off by his parents, teachers, George.

“Point taken.” He laughed.

They rounded the corner to the arena floor and began walking across the expansive space. It seemed a lot smaller when thousands of people were crammed into it. He hopped over the barrier when they reached it, taking his place up on stage with his friends. They didn’t seem to bat an eyelid at the fact that he had some random girl in tow with him as he approached them. He came across very differently on stage as he gathered his equipment than what he had in the merch van. An entirely different aura about him. Less awkwardness, a lot more confident of himself and his movements. He was handing out directions instead of being afraid to move for fear of messing something up. He wore the demeanour well. He made sure his mic stand was at the correct height before tapping it a couple of times.

“All right boys, we’re gonna play The Sound for my lovely friend down there.” He said, waving his hand in her general direction as he shot a grin her way. She smiled up at him, trying to stifle a laugh. This entire situation seemed surreal, she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or freak out or just, y’know, die on the spot. Certainly a heart attack felt imminent. But currently, her mentality was to just roll with it and internalise any and all feelings. They could be dealt with at a later date when he wasn’t around to cloud her judgement. His bandmates nodded as they started tuning instruments accordingly. They seemed unphased by his antics, it was obvious that they dealt with him like this on a regular basis.

After a few brief minutes, they had all confirmed that they were ready to go. Matty gestured for her to hop over the barrier. She looked back at him in confusion. “C’mere.” He said as he knelt down on the edge of the stage, holding his hand out to her. His long curls started to fall into his eyes a bit as he leant forward.

“Why?” She frowned up at him from the floor.

“You like this song, right?” He questioned.

“Well, yeah, obviously.” She scoffed. “I wouldn’t have followed some strange dude through dodgy hallways if I didn’t.”

He chuckled at that. “Then come up on stage and dance with me.”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s fun! Fuck me, it’s not _that_ complicated.” He laughed loudly. She took his hand with a roll of her eyes and a few grumbled curses as he helped pull her up onto the stage, positioning her next to his spot at the centre. After a shared nod amongst the band, the familiar introduction started pouring through the speakers around them.

Matty stood there eagerly at his microphone, his eyes shut and his foot tapping to the soft beat to count himself in. He cleared his throat as his first line came in, wrapping his hands tightly around the mic before starting to sing. His voice sounded far better in person than she would’ve expected, especially at such a close distance to not even need the speakers to hear it properly. The drums, the instrumentals, everything reverberated through her. She took in the scene around her, glancing around at the other band members, to the empty venue, to Matty in front of her. To say it was an amazing experience was an understatement. Surreal probably would’ve been a better adjective. As he broke into the second line he cracked one eye open, catching her staring at him in awe. There was absolutely no point in trying to hide it, she enjoyed a concert at the best of times let alone when one was being held just for her. A shit eating grin split across his face. As he tore into the first verse he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side, forcing her to bop along with him as he sang.

“She said I’ve got a problem with your shoes,” He sung, glancing pointedly down at her shoes, forcing her to look down as well, “And your tunes,” at that he shoved his finger in her ear closest to his head. “But I might move in,” She quickly slapped his hand away, making him laugh his way through his next few lines. “You’re so conceited I, said I love you, what does it matter if I lie to you?” He used his arm around her shoulder to spin her out away from him, forcing her to enjoy the energy he was radiating. He caught her hand quickly and pulled her back to him. Her head was spinning enough from the situation as whole, let alone when he did things like that.

“You’ve done this before.” She shouted at him over the music.

“Well I know when you’re around ‘cause I know the sound, I know the sound of your heart.” He sung with a wink, poking her quickly in the chest at the word ‘heart’ from emphasis. “Don’t overthink it, just enjoy it.” He said into her ear quickly before the second verse started.

Normally, she was fairly reserved, and certainly unlikely to let loose in front of a group of strangers. But the song, the smile, that look, they were all pretty damn hard to resist. So, she caved and just started properly bopping along with him while he sung through the second verse. When she caught sight of the genuine smile on his face at her having a good time, it quickly became contagious.

“Oh and you say, I’m such a cliché,” He held his hand to his chest dramatically as he sung into his microphone. “I can’t see the difference in it either way.” As he pulled his hand away from his chest, he reached out and grabbed a hold of her hand closest to him, pulling her back over into his personal space to be facing him. “And we, left things to protect my mental health.” Why was he staring at her like that? _Oh, no._ Suddenly she remembered the line coming next and became acutely aware as to why he had pulled her close again. _Fuck_. “But you call me when you’re bored and you’re playing with yourself.” He [dragged his hand down his chest to his crotch](https://pa1.narvii.com/6900/e6dbb307effc2ed50606efac5f6151b5d29082bbr1-306-306_hq.gif) with a devious smirk on his lips, making sure that she was close enough that the back of his hand made contact with her as well. As he headed into the pre-chorus he turned back to the microphone, letting her sort her head out for a moment. She tried her best to recover from how ridiculously forward that was. Was it a good thing or a bad thing that he’d just done that? Her thoughts reeled. She figured it would be best to just pretend that he hadn’t done that. That was a thought to shove to the back of her mind until _much_ later. As the music died down leading into the bridge, he quickly pulled her away from the mic into the centre of the stage. He held onto both of her hands tightly as the music swelled back up, eventually jumping around and trying to convince her to properly dance with him as soon as the guitar solo started.

“Dance with me!” He shouted, dancing hard enough that his audio receiver had fallen out of his ear. “Don’t make me look like a dickhead by myself.” He added with a laugh. She had to laugh back at that and started jumping along with him. He seemed to be an infectious good time in and of himself. Either that or he was just good at getting people to give him his way. Probably a bit of both. Eventually she realised that the backing vocals had started again, but he was still over here, nowhere near his mic.

“Aren’t you meant to be singing?” She asked loudly, gesturing to the empty mic. “Or, you know, checking the levels of audio stuff?”

“I can do that on the next song.” He answered, still singing along to the song out of habit anyway. She shook her head in disbelief. He must be impossible to work with. He let out a few huffs of breath as the song ended before grinning at her. “That was fun. What other songs do you like?”

“No, I can’t- I really should…” She quickly looked around the stage looking for anyone who seemed annoyed by her still being here. Nobody seemed phased by it. The interaction that they had in the merch van sprung back into Matty’s mind.

“Tootime?” He suggested with an eyebrow raised.

She let out a reluctant groan. “I probably should be getting back…”

“Tootime.” His suggestion was less of a question now.

“You have things to do… _I_ have things to do…” Her argument was pretty weak and he knew it. And the smile she was trying to hide was a dead giveaway that she wanted to hear it.

“TOOTIME!” He shouted at the band behind him, they gave small nods of acknowledgement in response that they’d heard him. He ran back over to his mic, pulling it out of the stand and joining her back in the centre of the stage. “You have to do the hand motions with me.” He said as he started bopping around and doing the ‘[rewind](https://66.media.tumblr.com/11b984ed44d552be1f74527db05d3ea3/tumblr_pdk7rz0Gry1tic4xeo6_r1_500.gif)’ signal. “And dance.” He added with a pointed look.

“Sure. At this point, why not? I feel like you wouldn’t let me get away with anything less.” She sighed in feigned annoyance.

“Too right I wouldn’t. You know me so well already.” He said with a [grin so broad it made the side of his eyes crinkle.](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/cb/57/3e/cb573e18848d16aa2018f785f2bcc445.png)

Just like when The Sound had started, he shut his eyes and calmed down his breathing as the intro began, both hands wrapped tightly around the mic. She could see his head bopping along to the beat to keep his timing right. This song was no less impressive than the previous one. A couple of the effects and lights had started to be turned on for this one, clearly a few of the crew taking their opportunity to test everything. It truly was a spectacle to behold that she normally didn’t see from this angle. She danced along a bit with the lyrics, more so watching around the stage than watching Matty. But she did happen to catch it as his eyes lit up as soon as he sung: “I only called her one time.” in the first round of the chorus, suddenly starting to fish through his pocket for something as he continued singing.

“Do I really have to do the numbers if you’re not even looking?” She asked, her question falling on deaf ears.

“You-” He jabbed her arm, holding his phone out to her. “text that boy-” he jabbed at his chest with a smile. “sometimes.” She stared down at his phone blankly before seeing it was on a new contact screen.

“Are you asking for my number?” She shouted at him above the music. He nodded with a grin as he continued to sing. “With song lyrics?? Who the hell are you..?” She asked in disbelief as she took the phone out of his hand. He pulled the mic away from his mouth so that he could speak.

“Sorry, I thought I had already done that bit. Matty.” He answered with that stupid grin still plastered on his face as he held his hand out for a handshake. She pushed it away with a laugh.

He finished the song without a hitch, dancing like an idiot and forcing her to do the same throughout the rest of it. As much as she would’ve hated to admit it, she couldn’t deny that it was fun. The instant the song ended, Matty had launched into some animated story from when they had been touring in the UK. They had been on a wild night at a pub somewhere when they heard Tootime while they were out. Halfway through said story, she heard the drummer at the back of the stage trying and failing to get his attention. She wasn’t sure if Matty wasn’t hearing him or if he was just straight up ignoring him.

“Matty.” The drummer called, trying again to get his friend’s attention.

Matty however was still completely unphased and continued along with his story. “and anyway that’s when-”

“I think-” She started, gesturing to the back of the stage. But he kept on going.

“we got back to the bar and found out that-”

“MATTHEW.” He shouted eventually from behind his kit, loud enough that he finally interrupted him.

“ _WHAT_ , GEORGE?” Matty shouted back angrily as he spun on his heel to look at his friend.

“STOP FLIRTING FOR FIVE FUCKING SECONDS AND PLUG YOUR DAMN EARPIECE BACK IN. THE SOUND GUYS ARE TRYING TO REACH YOU.” The lead singer reluctantly did as he was told and slipped the device back into his ear with a roll of his eyes.

“That’s probably my cue.” She mumbled with a laugh in an attempt to break the sudden awkward feeling she had, moving towards the edge of the stage. Before she could jump down, Matty grabbed her arm.

“Wait, wait, wait.” He was clearly listening to what was being said in his ear, eyes focused on the ground as he nodded slightly. She waited a moment for him to tune back into the rest of the world before speaking.

“I should be getting back to mer-” He held up his finger to silence her as he was listening.

“Okay, got it.” He finally confirmed, before looking back at her. “ _You_ cannot leave without this.” He raced off to the side of the stage and came back a moment later with a lanyard. He handed it to her, and she took a moment to examine it.

“An all access pass? I really can’t take this.” She said, trying to hand it back to him. He just pushed it back into her grip.

“Only temporarily, I’ll need it back later. But you’ll need it for a good view during the show.” He said, nodding towards the side of the stage.

She felt her jaw drop slightly as she stared at him wide-eyed. “I _really_ can’t do that. People need to have access to the side of the stage for… crew… things. I can’t just rock up unannounced.”

“Why not? You have a triple A pass.” He shrugged.

“I-”

“Just take it. Use it or don’t, I’ll grab it later.” He was clearly done arguing about it, she could see that much, and he had already raced to the back of the stage to say something to George. So, she just nodded and slipped it into her pocket as she finally started heading back to the merch van. Halfway across the arena floor, she realised that she actually had no idea where she was going. Her brain had been too distracted about the company she was with to focus on the turns they were taking. She paused for a moment, trying to remember what way they had come from. “Left.” She heard Matty call through the mic. She flashed a thumbs up over her shoulder, hearing him laugh as she left the arena floor.

Thankfully once she had a general idea of her direction, the merch van wasn’t hard to find. She came back to find the door open a crack and was worried for a brief moment before she saw her brother inside. “Hey, you’re alive! Where have you been? You weren’t answering my texts.” He asked, flashing her a worried look. She stepped into the van, shutting the door behind her and pausing for a moment to try and find a way to best explain what the last half an hour had consisted of.

“I… Uh… actually?” She rubbed at the back of her neck anxiously, “On the stage.”

He frowned in confusion, “What?”

“I think I befriended the lead singer of the headliner?” She wished she was able to sound surer of herself about that, but honestly nothing that had just happened made any sense yet.

“How?” He asked back with a loud laugh.

“I… have no idea.”

The rest of the setup for merch was simple. The stock was counted in, the displays set up, sizes were laid out, and the ink for the reprinting machine had finally been found and tested. She decided to forget for the moment that anything had happened with Matty, as it was far easier than having to deal with it while needing to work at the same time. It worried her that if she tried to process it now, her brain may very well implode. Doors opened and fans rushed in like it was a life or death matter to purchase a t-shirt. Once she had the steady stream of customers to deal with it was much easier to get back in the groove. It wasn’t until the line of people finally started dying down that she actually checked the time and saw that The 1975 had started playing over half an hour ago. She also had numerous texts from an unknown number that she assumed to be Matty.

“Oh, shit.” She muttered under her breath, scrolling quickly through the messages.

_6:05pm How’s our stuff selling?_

_7:37pm Have you reprinted many shirts?_

_8:50pm We go on in 10._

_9:13pm You’ve already missed tootime_

_9:29pm Are you gonna use that pass or what?_

“What?” Her brother asked casually from across the van.

“Can I take my break now?” She asked quickly. He nodded in response. “I might be a little bit.”

He shrugged, “Go for your life, just be back at the end of the show to deal with the final rush.”

“Thanks!” She shouted, already halfway out the door.

* * *

It was getting late into the show and Matty was starting to get worried that she wasn’t going to turn up. He had hoped that she would be there before he went on stage. Was it cocky of him to have expected that? Probably. But Tootime was pretty early on in their set and he figured she would’ve at least showed for that. But she hadn’t. And she hadn’t for any of the other songs either. They didn’t have that long now until the band had to break for the encore, and then the encore itself was only four songs. He wasn’t overly sure why he was so torn up about it. He knew that she had a job to do, and that merch was still pretty busy right until they went on stage, but that was over an hour ago now. He found himself standing in front of the drumkit during a short interlude between songs, staring at the bass drum with a blank expression.

“Matty.” George called out to him.

“Mm?” He glanced up at his friend.

“Stop freaking out.” He said as he pointed one of his drumsticks in his direction.

“I’m not.” He shrugged.

“You are. Whatever you’re thinking about, stop it.” He said as the ambience started changing to the introduction of their next song.

“Sure thing, mum.” He said with a roll of his eyes, taking a swig of his glass of wine and heading back towards his mic.

As they were about halfway through their final song before the encore, he was beginning to accept that maybe she just wasn’t going to use the pass. Maybe she had gotten caught up working, or got stuck in the line waiting for food, or maybe she just didn’t want to. He hoped it wasn’t the latter. As he was busy wallowing in self-pity, he had to do a double take when he saw her standing side stage, leaning against one of the support beams with an amused expression. He flashed her a quick [corny look](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/93/ec/3f/93ec3f312d2c14269585164ceb2a3e23.gif), and she waved back at him. Normally he stayed on stage during their fourth rendition of The 1975 to lead by example that everyone else should listen to it as well, but when the song finally finished he practically ran off stage in excitement.

“Fuckin’ hell, I was starting to think you wouldn’t come!” He shouted over the crowd as he grabbed her arm, pulling her further into the backstage area.

“I was busy. Tell your fans to make up their minds on what size they want quicker and I would’ve been here sooner.” She explained as the rest of the band soon filled in the space around them.

He started rifling around in his pockets, eventually pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He took a deep drag of it before pointing it at her. “I was worried that I’d given you that pass for nothing. You’ve already missed most of the show, y’know.” He was trying his best to sound serious but found it hard to keep the smile out of his voice. Performing and being on stage already gave him enough adrenaline to have to deal with.

“Aw, you were worried?” She quipped back with an eyebrow raised.

“Only on your behalf that you would’ve missed out on this.” He said with a suggestive look as he gestured towards himself in his stage clothes. She had to admit, he looked pretty damn good in the suit that he was wearing. But she’d sooner die than give him the satisfaction of hearing her say that.

“I’m only staying for one song.” She said, deciding to skip over what he had said.

“Whatever you say, love.” He said with a wink.

“ _One_ song.” She repeated, giving him a stern look.

“Sure.” He nodded.

Of course, she stayed for four. Or three and a half technically as she wanted to be back at the merch van before all of the concert goers started to try and leave at once. The energy and enthusiasm Matty had held during soundcheck was _nothing_ compared to what he had while performing. He clearly enjoyed being up on stage, and he seemed to get as much energy from his fans as what they got from him. She was beginning to think that the awkward guy who stepped into the merch van earlier that day was, in fact, a different person than the one she was watching now. The sheer level of confidence that he maintained on stage was astounding, he was hard _not_ to watch. And certainly he made sure to make her aware that he knew all eyes were on him. The amount of looks he flashed her way whenever he caught her staring was teetering on ridiculous. Eventually, she knew the show was coming to a close, and that meant that she had to get back to what she was meant to be here to do. She found it hard to leave during her favourite song, especially when she caught sight of the puppy dog eyes Matty was giving her as he saw her leaving, but if she had to fight the crowds on her way back she wouldn’t make it in time for the last rush.

Said rush passed by quite quickly, which was good for them as they had sold out of a lot of items and wanted to start packing everything away sooner rather than later. Her brother had offered for her to go home once the van had shut, but she figured she would stay back and help pack up. Also, she still had to return the lanyard. Which meant that she’d have to see Matty again at some point. Not that seeing him was her entire reason for staying back. That would’ve been absurd. About halfway through boxing up the remaining merch, her brother had started taking the boxes outside to load into the truck and take back tomorrow. She was halfway through loading the last shirts into a box when she suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around her. If she hadn’t vaguely recognised the suit, she _certainly_ recognised the laugh as Matty picked her up in a tight hug. The longer he held her, the more damp her clothes were starting to feel and the more she could smell the salty tang of stage sweat radiating from him. “Ugh… How can you possibly be so sweaty?” She asked, struggling to try and get out of his grip.

“I can get sweatier.” He leaned in close to her ear, adding the second part under his breath, “Wanna find out how?”

“Oh my god, let me go.”

He did as requested with a loud laugh and set her back down on the ground. She turned to face him, seeing that his hair was practically dripping from the amount of sweat in it, and his shirt under his jacket was _soaked._ But he definitely had some sort of post-concert-glow about him, it very much suited him. A cheesy grin was stuck on his face as he spoke, “You enjoyed the show?” He asked.

“Yeah, it was really good. The effects were quite impressive, and the band is really good live.” She nodded as she finished putting the shirts in the box and moved across the van to where their gear was stashed.

“And?” He prompted.

“And what?” She asked, searching for something in her backpack.

“And what about that fit as hell frontman?” He asked casually.

She let out a deep sigh as she walked back over to him. “I didn’t realise how right you were when you told me earlier that the lead singer of that band was a twat.” She chuckled. Before he had a chance to say something witty back, and before she forgot and got too caught up in the hurricane that was Matty Healy, she handed him back the all access pass.

“Ah, thank you. I need that.” He said as he slipped it into his pocket. “You’ve still got the shirt.” He said with a triumphant smile as he gestured at the tour shirt she was still wearing.

“Don’t get too excited, it’s only because we sold out of hoodies.” She replied.

They were suddenly interrupted by her brother shouting her name down the corridor. “If you’re finally ready to go just put those last few bits on the trolley and meet me at the truck.”

“Can do!” She called back, starting to get everything organised.

“Finally ready to go?” Matty asked as he watched her moving around the van.

“Yeah, we can only start packing up once all the guests leave so it takes a while.” She said with a shrug.

“ _Finally_?” He asked again with as much emphasis on the word as he could muster, the curiosity practically dripping in his tone.

“Oh.” She understood what he was getting at now. “I was actually allowed to leave a while ago.”

“And you didn’t?” He questioned.

“No, we um…” She cleared her throat before continuing. “I said I’d stay back and help pack up.” She answered quietly, expecting him to instantly turn the comment against her.

“That’s very noble of you.” He nodded, looking over the few boxes that were yet to be taken out to the truck. Not the reaction she was expecting.

She continued taping boxes shut and loading things onto the trolley. It was a few minutes before Matty finally spoke again. “Soooo, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow?” He asked nonchalantly as he rifled through a box that she had just packed and was waiting to tape shut.

“Will you just?” She questioned as she pulled the box away from him, shutting it properly before he could do any more damage. “What makes you think that I’m free?”

“Are you saying that you’re not?” He challenged with a smirk.

She paused for a long moment, opting to skip the question. “Aren’t you a busy man with things to do and places to be?”

“Not really.” He shrugged, looking around the nearly empty van for something to fiddle with. “I’ve got some press shit to do tomorrow but need to find something to kill time in between. Figured you could come keep me company.” He offered.

“Why?” She asked with a sceptical frown.

“Because you seem to enjoy my presence.” He gravitated towards the box of pins used for hanging the shirts, but she grabbed it before he could.

“Stop fiddling with my merch shit.” She scolded as she slipped the box into their bag of gear and put the last item on the trolley. “And what gave you that impression?”

He leaned back against the counter, waiting for her to face him before he answered. “You could’ve gone home ages ago and you didn’t. You hung around the venue.” He answered with an eyebrow raised. He didn’t need to spell it out for her to get what he was implying. She stayed silent for a long minute, trying to think of an argument against that but coming up empty. But the blush on her cheeks was enough to give her away. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?” He repeated.

“Yes, fine, I guess.” She huffed.

“Good.” He grinned. “I’ll text you where to meet me.”


	2. Distract My Brain

She had finally gotten home at about 1am that morning once everything from the show had been sorted and dealt with. Leaving her pretty much no time to process what a chaotic day it had been before she crawled into bed and passed out. At 6:18am she was rudely awoken by her phone incessantly buzzing. She rolled over with a groan to investigate what on earth was so important. Eight unread texts from a single number that she still had yet to save in her phone, and for how Matty was travelling at the moment he was about to have his number blocked. As soon as she started scrolling through the messages her phone started ringing. She answered without looking, knowing full well who it was.

“ _What_ , Matty?” She asked, the annoyance thick in her tone.

“You weren’t answering my texts.” He answered simply.

 _Fucking read receipts…_ “Because it’s _six in the morning_. I was asleep.” She mumbled in anger; her voice half muffled by the fact that her face was pressed into her pillow.

“Oh… Is it?” He asked absent-mindedly, she could hear shuffling on the other end of the line. “Jetlag is a wonderful thing.” He laughed.

“Go. To. Sleep.” She ordered as she hung up the phone and put it back on her bedside table. Her phone buzzed once more after she hung up, simply with an address and a time. She took a brief glance at it. 10am. That was manageable.

After a couple more hours of patchy sleep, and thankfully no more text messages, she finally got out of bed and got her shit together. The address he had given her ended up being a hotel, and it seemed to be a pretty snazzy one from what she could see in the lobby. Lots of gold trimming on things, a fountain in the centre of the room, a five-star restaurant, the works. They even had some glass thing near the check in desk filled with iced water with chunks of lemon in it. As she was distracted looking around the expensive ground floor of the building, she felt a hand land on her shoulder. For a brief moment she half expected it to be a hotel employee about to ask her to leave for loitering, but she turned around to be greeted by a grinning Matty. He was in much more casual clothes than the last time she had seen him in the stage suit; ripped jeans, a plain shirt, dark glasses. His hair however looked like he hadn’t touched it since he came off stage.

“Did you sleep at all after the show?” She asked, eyeing his sunglasses and the bed head look.

“A bit.” He shrugged. “I’m sure I would’ve slept better with company.” He added with a suggestive look over the frame of his glasses.

“I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have.” She shot back with an eyeroll. He laughed at that, opening his mouth to throw in another witty comeback, but she figured she’d stop that conversation before it started. “ _Anyway_ , where are we going? What is this shit that you have to do today?”

He pulled a small slip of paper out of his pocket and read over the information scribbled on it. “We are going to some radio station for an on-air interview thing at twelve, and then there’s another one somewhere else at three.” He answered, starting to walk towards the doors of the lobby.

She glanced back towards the elevators before following him, “Are the rest of the band coming?”

“No. Those dickheads got to go home last night. They only want me for the interviews.” He huffed.

They stepped out onto the pavement outside the hotel and Matty took a moment to take in his surroundings. “All right, so this is the address we’re going to first,” He said as he handed the slip of paper to her, “you gotta get us there and keep an eye on the time so that I’m not late to this thing.”

She stared at the paper for a second, before looking back at him with a frown. “Why?”

“Because I am entrusting you with this very delicate task.” He said as he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it.

“Don’t you have, I dunno, a babysitter or something to sort this stuff out for you?”

He took a deep drag before speaking, “Nah, they didn’t give me anyone to sort out my shit on this tour.” He said with a shrug. “So, you’re stuck with me.”

Her frown deepened, “I never agreed to that.”

“Well, you can always go home if you’re not having fun.” He pointed out.

There was a long pause between them as she mulled over her options. Go home and do the work that she had put off doing, or hang out with the charismatic lead singer of a band she quite liked. Eventually she muttered under her breath, “It’s this way to the train station.”

They walked down the street silently for a few brief moments. [Matty was happy just taking in the sights of a new area](https://data.whicdn.com/images/263691106/original.gif), the different architecture, the brief glimpses of culture. Travelling was a perk of his job that he very much enjoyed. She was noticing pretty quickly that Matty was a very expressive guy, it was pretty easy to see where his attention was and how engaged he was in whatever he was doing. He took another drag on his cigarette before holding it out to her.

“Tobacco?” She asked as she stared down at the offer. He nodded. She shook her head lightly, “No thanks.” They took another few steps down the street as the gears turned in his head, processing her answer.

“Is that implying that you smoke other things?” He questioned eventually. She deliberated on her answer, giving a noncommittal noise in response. His eyebrows shot up in amusement, “What would’ve made you say yes?”

“I might have considered it if it was weed.” She answered truthfully.

“Scandalous. I will need to remember this important information.” He replied as he snuffed out his cigarette with his shoe. She chuckled quietly next to him, forcing a grin out of him. She hadn’t exactly looked (or sounded over the phone) happy to see him again, it was nice to know that maybe he didn’t drag her out here for nothing. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For?” She asked.

“For coming with me today.” He elaborated. “Things go a lot smoother for me with company.”

“Oh,” She hadn’t been expecting him to sound so grateful about that. “It’s no problem.”

Matty hadn’t anticipated that the train station would be as close to his hotel as it was, and despite his attempts to suggest a taxi or something, she had reassured him that the offices that they were going were right in front of a different train station, so it was far more convenient to use public transport than to have to wait for someone to arrive to get them. He figured he had to trust her judgement, otherwise what was the point of asking for help from someone who actually lived here? They sat down on the train, [him sitting across the aisle from her](https://scontent.fper5-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/122797014_10218397760039516_3762538830698561645_n.jpg?_nc_cat=104&ccb=2&_nc_sid=0debeb&_nc_ohc=zGotwLfNVHAAX_-a_OA&_nc_ht=scontent.fper5-1.fna&oh=62adfd459ef55cfe87f4180feea317d5&oe=5FBB59D7); partially because the train was fairly full, partially as an excuse for him to be able to look at her through his shades without her being able to tell if he was staring out of the window or not. As he overanalysed everything about the last twenty-four hours, he eventually remembered that he had brought something to give to her. She had been looking out the window when she suddenly found a piece of black fabric hurtling towards her head. She caught it, albeit ungracefully, and as she pulled it away from her face she realised it was a hoodie. A 1975 hoodie. She gave him a look of confusion as she held it up.

“You were keen on getting a hoodie, so I grabbed you one.” He explained with a casual shrug.

That didn’t lessen her confusion any. “From where? All of the remaining stock got sent back?”

“From my suitcase.” He said as though it was the most obvious fact in the world.

She looked down at the hoodie. It looked well worn, and it wasn’t a design that was being sold at the show last night. “[Is this yours](https://scontent.fper5-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/122685681_10218397761839561_3929550695727820392_n.jpg?_nc_cat=108&ccb=2&_nc_sid=0debeb&_nc_ohc=EYwa_Gm5SKYAX9fmZYu&_nc_oc=AQlyXsRO1MSRORre3C41Mm_VWPkb-Y_9FsQcufQK0_AlDmOjA3bsRLGkEKHqtmtjyQo&_nc_ht=scontent.fper5-1.fna&oh=97b98e96860b1f508988612f97e087cd&oe=5FBBD90F)?” She asked after a long moment of silence. She looked back up at Matty, seeing him staring down at his phone.

“Not anymore.” He said simply. She was not overly fond of the warm, fuzzy feeling she had in her chest about this knowledge. But she shoved the article of clothing into her bag regardless.

The train station that they needed was only a few stops down the line, and they arrived in front of the building the interview was being held in with plenty of time to spare. He checked the time on his phone. They had nearly an hour and a half to kill. “Now what? I didn’t think that this place would be so close.” He sighed, lifting up his sunglasses to rub at his eyes.

“Well, I know a really good café nearby.” She suggested, glancing around at how busy the area was. Thankfully most of the people on the train hadn’t gotten off with them, there must be an event happening somewhere else. It should be pretty safe.

He hummed in agreement, nodding to himself. “Good idea. _This_ is why I needed you to keep me company today. I could go for a coffee, and you probably need one.” He grabbed his wallet, handing her his credit card. “My shout for waking you up early.”

“Damn right it is.” She laughed as she took the card.

It only took a couple of minutes before they approached the unsuspecting shop front. He made a beeline for the menu, trying to work out what would keep his mind best sorted for this interview. He felt like a coffee but he preferred tea most of the time, and coffee might make him too jittery and his thoughts too rapid. He didn’t have as much time when things were being aired live to consider his answers. In the back of his mind he heard her paying for their order, clearly deciding for him what he should have. He supposed that was one less thing to have to worry about. She came and stood next to him, holding his credit card back out to him. “All right, you gotta take your shoes off.” She said as he slipped the card back into his wallet.

“Huh? Why?” He frowned. She pointed in the direction of the back of the café towards a small room with a glass wall. Inside it looked… more or less like a lounge room? With couches and a TV and coffee tables. Except there were many, many cats.

“Wait… is this one of those cat café things?” Matty asked, quickly taking a worried glance around the front of the shop. She nodded as she kicked her shoes off. “Aren’t those super popular?” He was beginning to get anxious now. Big crowds weren’t really his _thing_. He hadn’t exactly prepared to be professional until his interview and had sort of hoped that the shades would be enough to give him privacy until then. He didn’t want to be forced to be on his best behaviour if he didn’t have to be.

“Normally.” She seemed entirely unphased by his distress.

“Maybe we should go somewhere else then.” He suggested, scratching at the side of his curly hair. He was already trying to think of a way to back track out of this situation. Maybe he shouldn’t have relied on a stranger to sort out his day for him. That was potentially a bad decision on his part.

“Why?” She asked.

“Well, it’s just that if there’s going to be a lot of people then potentially someone might recognise me and especially if I’m going to be stuck in a room with them for a while I just don’t really know how well that is going to go because I wasn’t thinking that I’d have to be-” His words came out in a garbled rush, and eventually she interrupted him to stop him from freaking out.

She shushed him for a moment, putting her hand on his shoulder to pull him out of his thoughts for a second. “I bought all of the tickets for an hour.” She said. He stared at her in surprise, his brain trying to catch up to how exactly that would assist him.

“What?” He asked, still wide-eyed and worried.

“Nobody else can come in for an hour, I paid to book the place out.” She explained.

He understood what she meant now. But as soon as the understanding washed over him, so did the realisation that _she_ hadn’t paid for anything. “Hey, wait! I didn’t say you could do that!”

“I thought someone as _incredibly famous-_ ” Her voice was laced with sarcasm at that part, “as you would prefer this to a café where it was just open to whoever.” She had already stowed all of her stuff away in some tiny cubby system that they had and was putting hand sanitiser on.

“Well… I do. But that’s beside the point!” He tried to be annoyed, but he just found himself laughing. It felt pretty nice knowing that he wasn’t going to be interrupted for the next little while, though it felt nicer knowing that she’d considered him before dragging him somewhere.

The inside of the room that the cats were in was very homely. Lots of blankets and pillows thrown over plush lounge suites, it was pretty much built for comfort. Minus all of the shelves on the wall everywhere that Matty thought might be a concussion hazard for him if he wasn’t paying attention. Once he was sitting down on one of the couches it was much easier for him to calm himself down from the height of panic he had built up in his mind. He took a few moments to just breathe, watching as she walked straight over to one of the cats and sat down next to it. She looked like she was talking to it but he couldn’t hear what she was saying from where he was situated. The room had quiet background music playing, but other than that it was incredibly quiet. Peaceful. The glass window blocked out most of the noise from the busy street outside. It wasn’t long before the order that she had placed was carried in on a little tray by the person who had served them. He spied two decent sized drinks and two muffins. He hadn’t even considered if he was hungry or not but upon the sight of food his stomach clearly remembered that it hadn’t had breakfast, growling in approval. Y/N/N grabbed the two drinks with a quick thank you and walked over to where Matty was still sitting.

“I know you said you felt like a coffee but I dunno, I just felt like a tea might sit better?” She said as she passed him one of the two cups. “And the interview is right over lunch so I figured some food would be nice.” She gestured to the two muffins sitting on the table.

“Thanks.” He said as he beamed up at her. “A good decision on all accounts.” A contented feeling settled itself in his chest. He figured he probably didn’t want to think about the origins of that right now. Putting it down to being in the moment, he changed the topic. “You know these cats?” He asked around a mouthful of muffin as he looked over to an orange one that was approaching him.

“Yeah. Been coming here for a while.” She sighed, taking a seat next to him on the couch. “Since it opened actually.” She reached out to pat it.

“Customer loyalty. I like it.” He commented as he took a sip of his drink.

“Sucker for felines, more like.” She scoffed.

They sat in a comfortable silence, exchanging the odd comment here and there. Mostly she just ignored him and sat with various cats within the café. So, he just watched her and enjoyed her enthusiasm for the animals as he finished his drink and muffin. The peace and quiet was nice, and the even nicer company put him in a better mood than he would’ve expected it to. Being surrounded by cats was also surprisingly enjoyable - they held a comforting nature about them. He held nothing against the animals, they just weren’t a personal favourite. The café had done a good job of filling the time and brought them to quarter to twelve by the time they arrived back at the radio station offices.

“I’ll just wait out the front for you.” She had said as he approached the doors.

“No, no. You have to come with me.” He protested, grabbing her hand and urging her to come with him.

“Nuh uh, no way.” She pulled her hand back, shaking her head. “You said I was here just to kill time in between your interviews.” She reminded him.

“I can’t face those savages in there alone.” He said with a pout.

They were in a stand-off for a moment, neither of them wanting to give in. She didn’t overly want to be pulled in any further to the antics that Matthew Healy seemed to create simply by being in a room. Finally, she rolled her eyes with an exaggerated groan. “Fine, I’ll come with you.” She said, watching as an excited grin made its way across his face. “But I am in no way being affiliated with your press stuff.” She added sternly.

“I can’t promise what _wild_ conclusions they will jump to about a rock star walking in with a girl on his arm.” He flipped his shades back over his eyes as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and dragged her through the doors with him.

“Let go of me.” She huffed as she shoved him in the chest. He just laughed loudly and took his arm away, but she didn’t stand any less close. 

They signed in at the front desk, scrawling a few details into some random clipboard. Matty had told her to just write down his label name under her reason for being with him. After that they were ushered down some hallways into a studio and told to wait outside until they were waved through. It wasn’t that long before that happened, and straight away Matty went and took the empty seat at the other side of the room next to one of the mics, slipping the large headset on. He seemed like he’d done this a million times, but she supposed he probably had. So, she just stood back near the door and leant against the wall until he was done. The interview seemed pretty stock standard to any other interview she had ever heard: chat about the new album, chat about the hits that are being played at the moment, ask how tour is going and how he enjoys the city. It wasn’t until they got into the parts about his drug addiction and Matty started cranking out his extensive vocabulary that it seemed to be quite a revealing escapade. But he seemed unphased the whole time he spoke about quite personal topics.

“We asked our listeners what they wanted to know when you were on the show, Matty, and we have had a few fan questions sent in.” The radio presenter pulled out a small stack of cards from next to his screen.

“Go for it.” Matty nodded. He’d had pretty much everything thrown at him in interviews by this point in his career.

“What has been your favourite show of the tour?” He asked.

He thought about this for a couple of seconds, smiling down at the mic. “Last night was pretty good.” He shrugged.

“Ah, you’re only just saying that because you’re still here!” The presenter guy said with a casual laugh. He just shrugged in response, opting not to elaborate on his answer. “Which is your favourite of your tattoos?” He continued as he read one of his cards.

“The one on my chest for my nana.” He answered confidently as he pointed at it.

The presenter let out a low chuckle, pausing for a second before leading into his next question, “Your favourite sexual position?”

He laughed loudly with a scoff, “[Nah, you’re not having that](https://thumbs.gfycat.com/UntidyAchingDugong-size_restricted.gif).”

“ _That_ ’s the answer you won’t tell them?” She mumbled quietly from the other side of the studio, only half listening as she stared down at her phone while she waited. He’d told them just about everything else at this point, why was that where he had stopped? After that Matty found himself tuning out the interviewer, fishing around in his pocket for his phone and quickly typing out a text message.

“It’s just all about balance, y’know?” He answered offhandedly, having not heard the question he was answering at all. The interviewer seemed happy enough with his answer, though. She saw the text message preview as soon as it came through.

_12:13pm Why tell you when I could show you?_

How in the hell had he even heard her from across the room with a headset on? She knew full well as soon as she read it that he was watching her - she could feel his stare practically drilling a hole through her skull. When she eventually looked across the room at him, the smile on his face was somewhere between smug and suggestive. She blushed and went back to looking at her phone in silence until he was finally done.

He said his goodbyes and walked out of the interview, flashing a shit eating grin her way as they started walking back the way they had come. “So…” He started, drawing it out as he leaned towards her. “How was your first interview?”

“Fuck you.” She muttered, refusing to meet his insistent gaze.

He gave a short laugh. “You could if you’d like.” He said as he nudged her shoulder. “That was the point.”

“You’re literally insufferable.” She continued.

“But yet, here you still are.” His grin was unwavering as he said bye to the receptionist on their way out. “Waiting for me to finish the interview. Waiting for me after the show.”

“Quite possibly the worst.” They had reached the door at this point, and she was half tempted to go home just to stick it to him.

“I am arrogant, pretentious, egotistical and a right wanker sometimes. I can beat you to the punch on all of that, I know all these things already.” He lit another cigarette as they stood on the side of the road. She just looked up at him, shaking her head.

“Who lets you get away with being like this?” She asked in disbelief.

He let go of the smoke he was holding in his lungs before speaking, “People who enable me.” He said with a pointed look in her direction. He was right. She _hadn’t_ left yet. Which wasn’t exactly the right conditioning for discouraging negative behaviours. Why hadn’t she left yet? She was suddenly reminded of all of the thoughts that she had been shoving to the back of her mind. “Fancy a drink before the next interview?” He asked before she could think about it for too long.

She nodded enthusiastically, “I feel like I fucking need one.”

They had nearly two hours until the second interview, which wasn’t too far away from where they already were. As much as she had no idea where the address was exactly, she was sure it wouldn’t be too difficult to locate. Worst comes to worst; Uber was a thing. She let him do the navigating to find a bar that they could get a drink in. It wasn’t long before he found one that he deemed suitable enough. It seemed to have some classic vibes with lots of wooden accents. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever actually been there before. They both took a seat up at the bar. “What’s your poison? Wine?” He suggested, looking over at her for approval.

She shook her head, “No.” He let out an offended gasp.

“Whiskey?” He asked instantly with an eyebrow raised.

She made an active gagging noise, “God no.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Vodka?” He finally proposed as the bartender walked over.

“Now we’re talking.” She nodded. He ordered a vodka and coke for each of them, tapping his glass to hers before taking a swig of it.

They finished their first drink in silence and he instantly ordered a second round. An outsider would’ve assumed by the speed that they were drinking, that they were two people looking to drown their sorrows. But it was more like two people trying to sort out what the hell was happening in their own minds. Matty always went through phases of inner reflection, this was no different to the other numerous times he had already done it today. Just this time he had the drink that he wanted to have during all the other times. He had a vague idea of where his head was at but currently wasn’t sure of his overall motives in the grand scheme of things. Y/N/N sat there trying to establish what had happened since the night prior, working out where this whole thing was going to leave her. The outlook seemed bleak. “Matty?” She asked eventually.

“Mm?” He looked across to her.

She swallowed her nerves as best she could to confront the question that had been bothering her the most: “What is your end game with this?”

“With what?” He asked innocently.

“ _This_.” She gestured between them. He let out a silent ‘oh’. It was a question that he himself had been trying to avoid, as well. “Eventually, you go home, right? And last I checked; you weren’t single.”

He raised his eyebrows at her comment, “You’ve checked?” He asked in amusement.

“No, I-” She started, letting out a huff of annoyance. “That’s not what you’re meant to take away from that.”

“But it _is_ what I’m taking away from that.” He all but giggled. “You’ve googled if I was single or not.” She swatted his hand away before he could bother her more than he already was.

“It’s just an expression.” She argued.

“Is it, though?” He asked with a cheeky grin.

“Matty,” She said finally, the tone in her voice catching his attention. “would you just be serious for five seconds?”

“I, erm…” He ran a hand through his hair, letting out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding. “Yeah, sorry.” He nodded finally, taking a large gulp of his drink and clearing his throat.

“So?” She prompted. He took in a few slow breaths, thinking of the best words to get his thoughts out coherently. It was a couple of moments of silence before he finally spoke, staring down at the bar as he did so.

“I don’t enjoy being vulnerable to people, not right off the bat and especially not during work - song writing being the exception, obviously. It makes my job a lot harder than it has to be, to be like that in interviews and during shows. Truly vulnerable, I mean. All of the heroin addiction and rehab stuff, that’s all already out there at this point. Half of the skeletons in my closet are already in my songs or in the headlines.” Matty waved his hand dismissively, “I have practically already scripted answers to deal with a lot of that shit... But the shit that I don’t want people finding out? Where my head and heart are at any given time? It’s easier to hide behind arrogance and my ego than to admit that stuff. Like how people say they’re fine when really, they’re not, so that people don’t ask them difficult questions. If they think I’m a bit of a dickhead, they think those things don’t matter to me. Doing that and having good company,” He nudged her shoulder with his own. “makes it easier for me to not have to think about things that drag me down. That’s why I was grateful that you came out with me today.”

She took a moment to process his answer. “As much as the transparency about why you’re such a twat sometimes is appreciated, that doesn’t answer the original question.” She reminded.

“Well, to answer the simple ones first: I am meant to fly back home tonight and to satisfy your creepy googling,” She kicked his shin at that remark, earning a short chuckle out of him. “I am single. My girlfriend left me a couple of months ago. You have to keep that to yourself, though.” He admitted quietly. There was a long moment of silence between them, he was clearly not fully ready to deal with that yet. She felt like maybe she should offer some form of condolences, but when she opened her mouth to do so he continued. “See? This is what I meant about being vulnerable. Now I feel shitty.” He laughed.

She decided it might be easier on the both of them to skip the ‘I’m sorry to hear that’s and move along. “And? The other bit?” She asked.

He let out a heavy sigh. “I enjoy your company and being around you, but not to be _that guy_ and quote my own shit-” He started.

“Are you trying to say that you _aren’t_ that guy normally?” She interrupted.

“You said you wanted to be serious.” He pointed out. She nodded, mumbling a quick ‘sorry’. “And I definitely am that guy, _but_ \- it seems that lately, if I choose, then I lose. If I tell you to go away, I end up by myself in a city I don’t know looking for an escape from my thoughts. If I tell you to stay, I’m leading you on, aren’t I?” He questioned, finishing the rest of his drink and calling the bartender over for another.

She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t.

“Are you?” He looked over at her to elaborate. “Leading me on?” She wasn’t overly sure what she wanted his answer to be, but hearing his response would probably help her get her own brain in order.

“Truthfully? I don’t really know the answer to that.” He confessed with a shrug. The mood had dropped since this particular conversation had begun between them. The drinks flowed quietly for a few more minutes, the sounds of the bar and the street nearby filling the void. He was halfway through his fourth now and she was just starting her third. She had no idea where his answers left her. To be honest, she felt it was probably still in much the same place that she had been in fifteen minutes ago: still confused and unsure what the next step was if he wanted to keep acting how he was.

“Sorry that I couldn’t offer you a solid answer there.” Matty apologised. She looked over at him to see him looking quite sorry for himself as he stared into his glass. His sunglasses on his head were not doing a good job of keeping his hair out of his eyes, and his typical jovial demeanour that she was getting used to was nowhere to be seen. “My life isn’t really in a spot to be making grand plans right now. At the moment I’m just trying to make it to next week in one piece.” He explained before glancing up to meet her gaze, holding it for a moment before speaking, “And I feel like you wanted a different reaction.”

She tried to work out what would’ve happened in her own mind had he given a definitive answer. Had he said he wasn’t interested and he was just flirting for the sake of it? That was fine. She’s known this guy for one day, it’s no skin off her back to forget about him once he leaves. Had it turned out that he was just trying to get in her pants for a fling while he was away on tour? She ~~probably~~ wasn’t about to say yes to it, but it would’ve at least been reassuring to know where his head was at. Had he been legitimately interested, though? That was the one that stumped her. And the fact that he was unable to confirm which of the three he actually wanted left her with more questions than answers. At the end of the day he wanted company in some capacity, but she wanted to know if providing that was going to leave her worse for wear at the end of the day. “I don’t actually know what I wanted out of that question.”

“What is _your_ end game? Why are you out here drinking with troubled musicians?” He asked, taking a swig of his drink for emphasis.

“I… am not really sure.” She confessed.

A snigger fell from his lips, “What do you mean you’re not sure?” He was used to people trying to take advantage of having someone of celebrity status around. To not have _some_ ulterior motive was unusual to say the least.

“I sort of just tried to ignore it until about twenty minutes ago.” She explained.

He let out a spluttered laugh of surprise, “What?”

“You came on really strong really fast and I was in no way prepared to deal with that!” She threw her hands up defensively, trying her best to not sound as hopeless about it as she felt. But she did find herself chuckling along with him. “I just tried to forget about it and go with the flow until I worked out what you were trying to do.”

“How could you ask me that question without having an answer yourself?” He accused her in between his laughs.

“You started it!” She said as she poked him harshly in the shoulder. “I figured you had a plan!”

He nearly fell off of his barstool at that from how hard he was laughing, “It’s the fucking blind leading the blind out here.” At that, they were both in stitches from the amount of laughter falling from their lips. It felt good to have the tense atmosphere begin to dissipate and for things to start to feel like they had been.

As their laughter died down, Matty tried to get the conversation at least kind of back on the rails. “So, if you don’t know what you want at the end, what do you want _now_?” He asked.

“Well, you go home tonight. Nothing can happen in one night.” She answered with a shrug.

He let out a loud scoff, “Plenty of things can happen in one night. Especially if you know what you’re doing.” He added with a suggestive look.

“How has nobody gotten you in trouble for how you act?” She asked with a shake of her head.

“Us rock stars get away with some incredible things.” He flipped his shades back down over his eyes as he said it, as if to prove a point that he was a proper celebrity. “If there was more time?” He continued.

“But there’s not.”

“Hypothetically.”

“Matty-”

“Indulge me.”

She let out a deep sigh, trying not to be swayed by the excitement swirling in his eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe something could come of it, if you knew what you wanted.” His smile split into a grin so she cut him off before he could say anything more. “ _Maybe_. I like your company so I wouldn’t rule it out.” She glanced down at her phone, catching sight of the time.

“I’ll take that. Maybe is good.” He nodded, mostly saying it to himself.

“We gotta get going if you’re gonna make it to this other interview.” She said as she stood up from the bar. He glanced from her back to their empty drinks still on the counter.

“We can’t just stay and keep drinking?” He asked in disappointment.

“I mean… It’s _your_ interview. _I_ can do whatever I want.” She said with a short laugh. He got up from his chair and grabbed his things, starting to head for the door.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go. Come on.” He grumbled as he rolled his eyes. As they stepped outside, he pulled the slip of paper out of his pocket again to verify the details. “I don’t like written interviews.” He said mostly to himself as he scrunched up his face in distaste. He followed after her as she started walking in the direction that he assumed was towards the building he needed to be in shortly. “They take what I say out of context too frequently and easily.”

“Gotta grab the readers with those catchy headlines and that mis-quoted information.” She joked, nudging him with her elbow.

He let out a sarcastic laugh in response before speaking, “Half of the time I’m sure it’s because they can’t spell the words I’ve used.”

“You have to dumb it down for them, Matty.” She explained, “Lowest common denominator and all that.”

He laughed at her comment. “But that’s not me. I’m the pretentious twat, remember?”

“Like you’d ever let me forget it.” She said with a mocking smile, he just smiled back warmly.

The office that the second interview was being held in wasn’t as close as the first was, but it was still within walking distance. Matty had spent most of the walk trying to remember his best airtight answers that couldn’t be chopped and changed. They got there with fifteen minutes to spare.

“You’re allowed to wait out the front for this one.” He said quietly as he snuffed out the cigarette he had been smoking on their walk under his shoe.

“Gee, thanks.” She scoffed.

“No, I…” He started as he turned to her, trying to backtrack over how that sounded. “You know that’s not what I meant by that.” He said with a pointed look over his sunglasses. “I’d rather not give them anything more than I have to. It’ll be easier if you don’t come in.” He explained. In the short while she’d known him, she hadn’t exactly seen Matty be serious, and for a while it seemed like he was physically incapable of it. Out of the two times it had happened, one was when she had to ask him to be serious and the second was currently happening right now on this sidewalk. He seemed genuinely worried about this interview.

“Yeah, sure thing.” She agreed, suddenly feeling stupid for giving him shit about it.

“Thank you.” He said with a nod and small smile. “I’ll be back soon.” He said as he walked through the glass doors of the building.

This interview felt a lot longer than the radio one had. She tried to keep herself occupied but kept finding herself checking the entrance to see when he was finally done. After about half an hour she saw the familiar mop of curly hair approaching the doors. “How did it go?” She asked as he stepped back outside, lighting a cigarette almost instantly. He shrugged with a grunt. “Amazingly I take it.” She said sarcastically.

“Let’s go.” He mumbled, heading back in the direction of the train station that they had come from. He felt like he needed a drink, or to get stoned, or something to distract from the way that he felt his answers were being mistreated in that interview. He knew their tricks at this point in his career. Knew how they baited their questions for the right phrases and he tried his best to avoid them. But for every question he worked out how to get around, they found a new one to throw at him that he wasn’t prepared for. And that was always the one that made headlines. He knew that his want to get inebriated in some way, shape or form probably wasn’t likely to happen right now, so heading back to his hotel and sorting his shit out to go home was probably the next most reasonable thing to do.

It was nearly four before they were sat back down on the train on the way back to his hotel. They had walked most of the way there quietly while he beat himself up over the interview, but he was finally starting to feel his mood calm down as his brain wandered to other questions. Namely about present company sitting next to him. _This_ was why he needed company, to help keep his brain grounded. “Was this out of your way?” He asked, breaking the silence. She looked at him curiously, urging him to continue. “To come out here today, I mean.”

“Ah. Not really.” She said with a shrug. “I try not to make plans after working a show because of how late they can go. And I live maybe… thirty minutes total travel time away from here? Near the airport.” She answered. He nodded in understanding. He vaguely remembered how long it had taken him to get to his hotel from the airport when they’d first flown in. The rest of the walk to his hotel was filled with them asking generic getting-to-know-you questions that they _probably_ should’ve asked yesterday in an attempt to learn at least basic facts about one another. They knew pretty much next to nothing about each other. He knew that she liked his music and was easy to rile up. She knew that he was funny and in a band. That was about it.

She noted that he hadn’t seemed himself during their conversation as they made it back to his hotel. He was much quieter and a lot less high-energy than what she had seen previously. But she didn’t feel too chipper either now that they were about to part ways for good, and his final interview appeared to have been a sour note to end his day on. As they both stood in front of his hotel, the atmosphere between them felt tense. “Well…” She started, unsure of what exactly to say. Goodbyes were always awkward. “Have a safe flight, I guess.”

The offer to invite her up to his room briefly crossed his mind, but he thought better of it. She’d only turn him down, anyway. He figured being genuine and leaving on the right note was probably the better way to go. “Thanks for the company these last couple of days.” He said, taking his shades off and slipping them into his pocket.

She shrugged. “It’s no problem, really.”

“Maybe not, but I still appreciated it.” He said as he pulled her into a tight hug. “Keep in touch.” He mumbled into the side of her hair.

“You too, Matty.” She smiled as she hugged him back.

“I mean it.” He added quietly as he moved back, flashing a serious look her way before properly letting go. As quickly as she had seen the sincere look in his eyes, it was replaced by a suggestive grin. “Make sure you have my number saved for those lonely nights.” He winked.

“I will make sure to promptly delete it.” She nodded, rolling her eyes as she started making her way home. “Bye, Matty!” She called with a wave over her shoulder.

“Bye, Y/N/N.” He laughed, heading into his hotel.


	3. I Tell You Lies, But It’s Only Sometimes

It was 1am when she heard her phone buzzing relentlessly against the wood of her bedside table. She grabbed it, recognising the number that she really had to save as an actual contact. Eventually. One day. Maybe. But why was Matty calling at 1am? He was meant to be on a plane. 

“We have got to stop meeting like this.” She mumbled as she answered the call, still half asleep.

“My flight got cancelled.” He replied instantly; opting to ignore her fantastic joke.

“That’s shitty.” She said with a yawn. “When’s your next one?”

“They just asked me to come back tomorrow to find out if there’s another.” He explained. She hummed thoughtfully in response, only really sort of processing what he was saying. There was a pause on the line for a moment as Matty waited for her to put two and two together. “So… I don’t have a hotel to stay in.” He added.

“Better go book another one then.” She replied.

“But it’s midnight.” He whined. “And so last minute.” He continued.

Her brain was starting to catch up to what he was getting at now, and she sensed he would continue listing reasons it would be better for him to stay at her house rather than at a hotel all night if she let him. “No, Matty.” She said, properly awake now.

“Please?” She could practically see the pout on his face through the phone.

“Why can’t you just book another hotel?” She questioned, rubbing her eyes to get the uncomfortable feeling of being awake far too early out of them.

“You’re the one who said your place is close to the airport.” He reminded her. She had said that. Why did she tell him that? That was a bad decision.

She groaned loudly and he could already tell that she had given in. “Fine. FINE.” She caved. His quiet ‘yessss’ echoed down the line. “You’re sleeping on the couch.” She added, just in case he was getting the wrong idea.

“Aw.” He laughed.

“I’ll text you the address and let you in when you get here.” She said, throwing the covers off and shoving some slippers on her feet.

“Wait, what? No, no, you can go back to bed. Just leave the door unlocked and I’ll let myself in.” He said, figuring it made no sense for the both of them to be losing sleep. Not over something like this, anyway.

“Firstly, no. That’s super unsafe. Secondly, no. I will wait for you to get here.” She was already out of bed at this point and starting to get a few blankets together to throw over the couch for him.

“You do a lot of waiting for me.” He quipped, the background noise of the airport filling the few seconds of silence as he let his comment hang there for a moment. She could just picture the smug look on his face as he said that.

“Shut up or I’ll take back my generous offer.” She shot back.

“Thanks! See you soon!” He said quickly, and with a click, the line was dead.

She draped the blankets and a pillow over the couch before taking a seat and waiting for him to get here. At this hour, the airport would only be ten minutes away, so she just kept herself busy on her phone until she heard the knock at the door. When she answered it, he looked all too happy about the news that his flight had been cancelled. Almost as soon as the door was halfway open, a massive grin was plastered on his face and he instantly dropped his suitcase to wrap her up in a hug. She let him in, leading him through to the lounge room where he was going to be sleeping.

“Couch.” She said, gesturing to the three-seater sofa in the middle of the living room with bedding spread out over it. “Kitchen. Has water and glasses to hold said water.” She waved in the general direction of the kitchen in the next room. “Bathroom is that way.” She pointed down the hall. “Do you need anything else?” She asked, turning to face him.

“I just really wanna look at all your stuff. Your house has such a different vibe to mine.” He said as he found himself drawn to all of the things around her living areas. His style of living was fairly… minimalist. He enjoyed things but didn’t own that many himself. Half of his life was spent on the road, if he had too much, he’d never be able to keep it all. So, most of his belongings were spread between a few different locations and his suitcase. This, in contrast, was extremely cluttered. Neat and organised, confined to only certain corners of the room, but cluttered nonetheless. He could tell with how things had been displayed that a great deal of care had gone into setting it all up and these items were clearly well loved. She sat down with a huff in the arm chair next to the couch he was _meant_ to be asleep in by now, watching as he gently examined things around the room. He asked a few questions every now and again: where had she gotten this, why did she have such and such, what was the story behind that. At one point he had asked her a question and he had thought that she was trying to work out an answer, but when he had turned around, he realised that the reason for her silence was because she had fallen asleep while he was too busy fawning over inanimate objects.

“Bollocks…” He muttered, trying to work out what to do. He already felt bad for having woken her up and making her wait out here for him to arrive, he didn’t want to wake her up again just to send her to bed. But letting her sleep on the recliner was hardly reasonable either, especially if he was supposed to be sleeping on the couch right next to it. That was just going to be awkward for whoever woke up first. He took a quick glance around the small home, eventually spotting a doorway with a bed on the other side that he suspected to be hers. Deliberating his options for a quick moment, eventually he decided that she’d probably appreciate getting a decent night’s sleep after having to get up and let his sorry ass inside. He opted not to overthink the situation and made an effort to try and switch his brain off for five seconds as he picked her up and carried her back to bed. After he had put her back safely in her bed and pulled the covers over her, he stopped for a moment.

He had dragged someone else into his mess of a life to help him cope with shit that he _should_ be able to deal with by now. Whenever he left the slightly darker part of his life behind, he was under the impression that he was capable of keeping himself in check. That was certainly what everyone seemed to congratulate him for; that he finally sorted it out, he got a hold of his addiction, _he_ got himself through it. It had turned out that without company, his self-control was pretty limited. He hated how dependent that made him feel. When he was on tour and away from his friends and family, he could at least rely on the band. But, with the band already gone he wasn’t as much of himself as he usually was. However, her company felt comforting in a different way. Yesterday had gone exceedingly better than he would’ve expected it to, and he was sure that it was due to that. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, something wasn’t the same as if he would have been at those interviews with the band. But he thought that maybe he could work it out if he had enough time to. Hell, he fucking skipped out on his own flight just to hang around for one more day and see if he could do exactly that. She mumbled something as she rolled over, and he finally snapped out of it and realised he had been standing in this room for far too long now. “Creepy, Matty. Creepy. Leave.” He muttered under his breath to himself as he trudged back out into the lounge room to try and get some sleep.

* * *

“Sleep well?” He asked as she wandered into the lounge room the next morning. He was sat comfortably in the recliner, the blankets that had been tossed across the couch were now folded up neatly on top of it. The TV was playing some random morning news program, and he was mostly paying attention to that, other than the brief glance he threw her way as she entered. Did that man ever sleep? He looked almost exactly the same as he had when he rocked up last night.

“Not bad.” She answered, eyeing him curiously. Everything in the lounge room still seemed to be in place. Neater, even. “I fell asleep in here last night, didn’t I?” She asked eventually.

“Mmhm.” He nodded, not looking away from the TV.

“How did I end up back in bed?” She continued.

“I put you there.” He answered casually.

“I had a feeling that’s what you were gonna say.” She said, making her way into the kitchen to start finding some form of breakfast. “And I was kind of surprised to see that you hadn’t tried to worm your way in next to me. So, I wasn’t sure if that would be the correct answer.” She said with a dry laugh as she put the kettle on the stove top to boil.

“Geez. I’m hurt that you think I’d do that.” He gasped; a hand clutched to his chest. His tone of voice sounded serious but the look on his face was still joking. “You told me to sleep on the couch. I might be a bit of an arse but I’m not a complete psychopath.” He added with a shrug as he came over to lean against the counter top.

She hummed thoughtfully at his answer, “How you act sometimes would have me convinced you don’t know where to draw the line.” That one felt like it cut him a bit deeper than he would’ve liked, but he shrugged it off.

“You have never once told me to stop acting how I do.” He pointed out. She thought about this for a moment and quickly realised that he was right. Maybe she should start doing that… Maybe. “If you did, I would. But I know there’s a line.” The silence hung between them for a moment as she thought about how to respond. She felt like she should potentially apologise for accusing him of something like that after his answer, but he continued speaking before she got the chance. He seemed to be pretty good at that. “Tea?” She gratefully took the way out of the conversation that he was offering her before it got awkward, nodding as she grabbed two mugs.

They both prepared a quick breakfast, eating quietly in front of the background noise of the TV. She only had fairly limited supplies considering that she hadn’t expected to have to cater to a second person this morning. Which meant that they ended up stuck with buttered toast and tea, the breakfast of budget conscious champions. A decent amount of time had passed since she had woken up, and it was starting to move into mid-morning territory. So far, Matty had mentioned nothing about having to get on a plane and go home. “So, what are you going to do about your flight?” She asked him around a mouthful of toast.

“They wanted me to go back to the airport today to speak to the people and get a new one, but I think someone is just going to call me with the new details instead.” He answered, flipping channels to find something more interesting

“You just have to wait and see?” She asked with a frown.

“Yep.” He sighed, popping the ‘p’ as he said it.

“Which, in light of that, what is there to do around here?” He glanced around the room, trying to spot something that could be used to kill the time.

“You’re intending on hanging out here?” She questioned in surprise.

“Well, I might be leaving in half an hour, I might be leaving in eight. I can’t just wander around outside like some lost puppy until they call me and tell me when.” He pointed out as he stood up and made his way over to a bookshelf.

“Why not?” She huffed.

He gasped loudly as he turned to face her, but his shocked expression gradually turned into a smile. “You wound me. You don’t want my company?” The look in his eyes and the smirk on his face suggested that he was already giving her shit for admitting that she enjoyed having him around. She shouldn’t have said anything yesterday in the bar. He was already well aware of her answer by the blush creeping onto her cheeks.

“Okay, fine. You can stay until your flight. But I have actual things that I need to be getting done.” She finally agreed.

“But who will entertain me?” He asked with an exaggerated groan.

“Well, you can’t just expect me to drop everything I had planned for today.” She argued as she grabbed her laptop and set herself up on the couch.

“You should’ve been expecting me and freed up your schedule!” He said with a laugh.

“How could I anticipate that your flight would get cancelled and you’d rock up on my doorstep?” She asked without looking up from her screen. He quickly realised his mistake. Him intentionally ditching his flight to spend more time with her was a thought that only occurred in his mind, not hers as well.

He let out a nervous laugh, “True.” He mumbled as he quickly changed topics. “What you doin’?” He asked as he plopped himself down on the couch next to her.

“Answering emails.” She replied.

“About?” He continued, glancing over her shoulder and trying to read what was on her screen.

“Upcoming shows and sending spreadsheets off for yours.” She answered as she dragged and dropped a few excel sheets into an empty email.

“Any bands I’d know?” He glanced at the contact names on the email sidebar. None seemed familiar except the ones that he recognised as being Dirty Hit addresses.

“Doubt it.” She shrugged, “They’re all smaller, local shows.”

He watched her typing away at the keyboard, his interest eventually waning as his eyes wandered around the room. “Got any weed?” He blurted out.

She rolled her eyes at his question, then supposed it was probably only a matter of time before he asked it. “I do.” His face lit up at her words. “But I’m not sharing it.” And out went that light as quickly as it had come into his eyes. He opened his mouth to begin arguing as to why she should indeed split some with him, but she continued. “You need to catch a plane, anyway! You can’t rock up at the airport stoned.”

“Why not? I’ve done worse.” He laughed loudly, thinking on all of the stories he could tell her that would definitely top arriving at a flight stoned.

“ _I_ am not letting you rock up to the airport stoned.” She rephrased.

“Just tell me when I’m getting warmer.” He said as he stood up and started moving around the living room, holding his hands out like he was stumbling through the dark about to run into furniture.

“We are not playing hotter and colder for drugs, Matty.” She tried to sound at least sort of chastising, but the laugh that fell from her lips betrayed her amusement at how silly he looked walking around blindly.

“I’ll pay you back for it.” He added.

“That’s not…” She let out a deep sigh as she ran her hands down her face. “That’s not the point.”

“If you’re hiding it on your person, don’t think that’ll stop me.” He turned to face her with a suggestive grin. As she went to discount that theory, his phone started ringing. _Thank god for that_.

He held the device up to his ear, listening intently and making approving noises as he continued to pretend that he was a drug sniffer dog. While he was distracted, she got up and walked into another room. The random representative from the airline spent a good ten minutes apologising for the inconvenience of having to rebook his flight due to ‘unforeseen circumstances’ before actually getting to the point. He decided it was probably best not to press that matter any further given it would come out sooner or later that the circumstances that caused him to miss his flight were pretty easily foreseen. She walked back into the lounge, seeing that he was still on the phone. “Sweet. Flight number BA637 at midnight? That’ll do.” He nodded to himself. After a few more apologies and pleasantries were exchanged, he finally managed to get off the phone and get back to the important matter at hand. “So… My flight is at midnight. That’s plenty of time to get stoned.” He said as he spun around to face her, only to find that she was already right in front of him, holding something out for him to take. He flashed her a confused expression before holding his hand out. She placed a snuff box and papers into it before taking her seat back on the couch. “Oh, you actually…” He seemed genuinely surprised to be presented with the drug. “Uh, thanks.”

He hadn’t anticipated that she would actually go get it for him. For the most part, he had been joking. Not that it was an unwelcome offer. His stash had run out after the show on Friday, and it was incredibly good for calming his brain down. He took a seat back in the recliner, quickly rolling a joint. Before lighting it up for himself, he supposed he should probably share with the gracious host. He held the joint he had rolled out to her and she shook her head in response without even looking up from her emails. He frowned as he looked down at it, then back up at her. “You’re not gonna have any?” He asked.

“No way.” She said with a short laugh. “I’ve got shit to get done, I can’t be stoned.”

“What! Why didn’t you tell me that before?” He asked loudly.

“You seemed pretty hell bent on getting high.” She shrugged as she looked up on him. He looked like a child who’d just been told that they weren’t actually going to Disney World and were, in fact, going to the dentist instead.

“Not by myself.” He mumbled in disappointment.

“Tough shit.” She chuckled.

He let out a reluctant groan, pausing for a moment before speaking again, “You sure you don’t want any?” He offered one last time.

“Another time, Matty.” She sighed with a small smile.

“I’ll hold you to that.” He nodded as he tucked the joint behind his ear.

He sat and waited patiently, half paying attention to the TV as she finished up the emails that she had to get done. Eventually, once she had finished the tasks that she was meant to get done with her day, she was considerably more willing to entertain the messy haired boy on her couch. They killed the time eating snacks and getting to know each other a bit better. She felt that she had a pretty decent grasp on the conundrum that was Matthew Healy after a few hours of chatting with him. They were both blunt and honest people, so it was easy to cut to the chase and skip around the idle chit chat that filled the majority of their day to day conversations. And he was finding that the more he spoke with her, the further the connection between them went. What had initially been him enjoying having someone around purely because of how well they reacted to him was fast becoming quite a well-rounded friendship. She was also quickly finding that whenever she got him onto a topic that he truly enjoyed discussing, he was an unstoppable force of enthusiasm and ridiculous vocabulary. A conversation with Matty mostly involved just listening to the torrential waves of thought that _were_ Matty.

Eventually during their chat, he discovered a few retro video game consoles that she had hidden under her TV. He was all too keen to prove that he’d have more skill than her at any game she could throw at him, and being the competitive person that she was, she wasn’t about to let him think that he was right. As soon as they got engrossed in the games, the time flew by. It wasn’t long before his phone was buzzing to remind him that he had a plane to catch. Whoever was organising his flights had also organised a taxi for him that was currently waiting outside. He flashed her an apologetic look as he paused the game and started grabbing his things.

“Sorry, I’ll have to kick your arse another time.” He said as he quickly scanned the room to make sure he wasn’t leaving anything behind. Would leaving his wallet behind be a decent excuse to miss another flight..? Probably not. He shoved it into his pocket.

“You have lost more games than you’ve won, y’know.” She pointed out with an eyebrow raised as she stood up.

“So far.” He shot back as he pointed at her seriously, before cracking a huge grin. His smile was ridiculously infectious.

He started heading towards the door, pausing for a moment before grabbing the handle. “Thank you for letting me hang out here all day. Sorry if I was a bit of a burden.” He said with a sheepish smile, scratching at the curls sitting at the back of his neck.

“You’re not a burden.” She replied with a roll of her eyes. “But it’s no problem. Let me know the next time you’re back in this part of the globe.”

“Can do.” He said with a bright grin. “Bye, Y/N/N.”

“Bye, Matty.” She said, going in for a goodbye hug. He leaned forward in a different way than if he was reciprocating the hug, and for a brief moment the thought passed her mind that he might be about to try and kiss her. But he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling to himself as he did so. The blush that was rapidly spreading across her face gave her away before she could even try to cover it up.

“I’ll see you soon.” He said with a wink as he opened the door and walked down to the waiting taxi, throwing a brief wave over his shoulder in her direction. She realised as she stepped back into her house that the joint that she had given him was now sitting above her ear. She laughed to herself, expecting that she probably would be seeing that boy sooner than she thought knowing his antics.

* * *

When her phone buzzed loudly on her bedside table, pulling her out of her half-asleep state, she supposed that she shouldn’t have been surprised. Would it _really_ have been a night of knowing Matty Healy without him trying to contact her at some ridiculous hour? She rolled over, grabbed her phone and held it to her face, trying to adjust her eyes to read the bright screen in the darkness.

 _11:36pm My flight got cancelled again_ _:/_

No way. Again? That didn’t seem very likely... The airports here were fairly reliable most of the time, the odd cancellation wasn’t unheard of but two in a row seemed pretty ridiculous. What had he said his flight number was? Maybe it said online what was happening with the plane. She quickly googled the flights heading to London that night, finding his flight number straight away. It was still scheduled on time. Why the hell was he trying to get out of his flight home?

**11:39pm No, it didn’t**

_11:40pm It did. They said the engines are broken_

She sent through the screenshot of the page that she had just looked up.

**11:40pm It says here that your flight is still scheduled for midnight**

_11:40pm Your website must be outdated_

She didn’t have the energy at this hour to work out if he was joking or not. But she was pretty damn sure that the website would’ve been correct.

**11:41pm Catch your damn plane, Matty**

He smiled to himself as he read the message before tucking his phone into his pocket and handing over his boarding pass. The flight attendant gave him a warm smile as they scanned it and handed it back to him. He hadn’t really expected to be able to get away with it two nights in a row, but he felt it was still worth the shot.


	4. I Know You Think You're Sly

Over the next few weeks the two of them talked pretty regularly. Different time zones made it more difficult, but Matty’s regular (or rather, irregular) sleep schedule sort of made up for that. He was beginning to notice that over time she was becoming a pretty integral part of his social system. It took him a while, but he was realising that the days that he was most snappy and rude at those around him were the days that they hadn’t spoken. He had a bad habit for forming crutches on things around him that offered some form of relief. But he figured a social crutch was considerably healthier than an opioid one, so he let it be. The band were also quickly noticing this, probably faster than Matty himself did. Though their reason for believing he was fast becoming socially dependent on this girl was the fact that he just did. not. shut. up. about her. George was at least happy to see his best friend in such a good mood, but he really wished that Matty would get over this weird honeymoon phase he was in where everything was still new and shiny and he had to tell everyone about it. Especially when they were always in each other’s space, Ross and Adam heard considerably less of it than he had to.

It had been nearly a month since she’d last seen Matty when the man himself was suddenly flashing up on her phone screen. She put down the mouthful of food that she had been about to eat as she held the phone up to her ear. “What’re you doing this weekend?” He asked without even saying hello.

“Hi, Matty. How’s things? That’s good. I’m doing well, thanks for asking.” She started rattling off sarcastically.

“Are you free or not?” He asked again.

“I dunno, I’m probably seeing family or something?” She heard him hum thoughtfully on the other end of the line. “Why?”

“Wanna meet me halfway?” He questioned. She expected him to elaborate on that, but he didn’t continue.

“Halfway to where?” She asked eventually.

“To a gig.” He said like it was the most obvious answer he could ever give. “I was bored and looking up flights for where we are gonna be on tour this weekend. It’s equal distance from me as it is from you.” He explained.

“I… what?” She gave a disbelieving laugh. “Matty, I can’t just get on a plane and go away for the weekend.”

“Why not?” He asked.

“Well, I can’t afford it for a start.” She pointed out with a huff.

“I never said that you had to pay for it. That would be pretty rude of me to ask you to come out and make you pay for it yourself.” 

“Then I definitely can’t say yes, I can’t let you pay for that.” She said with a frown. That felt like she was just taking advantage of his situation.

He laughed loudly. “You know that I earn significantly more than you, yes?” He had a pretty valid point there.

There was a long pause on the line as she considered all of the possibilities of this. “Just come hang out. You can leave Friday and be back by Monday.” He pressed, trying his best to twist her arm.

She contemplated the offer. Anything that she had planned this weekend she could easily cancel, and a weekend away did sound pretty fun. Also, as much as she’d never tell him, she was definitely eager to see Matty again. “I’m not just coming out to stand around while you get interviewed again, right?” She asked hesitantly.

“We have a gig on the Friday and Saturday, then some after party thing on the Friday night and a photoshoot on one of the days, I think.” He listed off, trying to rack his brain for the details that were in the schedule his manager had sent him last week.

“You’re sure?” She asked again.

“Definitely no interviews.” He laughed. “You should be able to come along to all of that.”

“Okay.” She finally agreed.

“Great!” She could practically hear the grin in his voice. “I’ll send you some stuff soon.” And just like that, the line was dead. Turned out his grin was infectious even through a phone line where she couldn’t actually see it.

As promised, Matty quickly sent through a heap of details about flights and where she had to go, and it was only a few days before she found herself spending her afternoon waiting in a hotel lobby for him. Again. This time in a different country though, she supposed. She really did do a lot of waiting for him. The familiar British accent echoed through the lobby, but she wasn’t quite able to match it to the direction it was coming from. Which suited Matty just fine as it allowed him the chance to run up behind her and capture her in a tight hug before she noticed him approaching. He let out a loud laugh, one of the ones that was [emphatic enough that it made his eyes crinkle](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ce/67/80/ce6780bd50dbdeff75bed0c3515e448a.gif), as he picked her up, forcing a breathless laugh out of her as well. It felt nice to be his company again. Phone calls only conveyed so much of the overflowing personality that was Matty. He reluctantly placed her back on the ground.

“Miss me?” He asked with a cocky grin as she turned to face him.

“You wish.” She scoffed, but she couldn’t help but return his grin. “It’s good to see you.” She admitted after a beat.

“You too, love.” He beamed. “We’ll have to make sure it’s not so long next time.” He added with a wink. “But I should finally introduce you to the rest of the band! As much as I like to claim I’m the best musician in the world, I wouldn’t be shit without my team by my side.” His enthusiasm to introduce her to his friends mimicked that of a kid on Christmas. He was practically bursting out of his skin as he dragged her over to the group of three guys still standing by the elevators.

She had only met the boys in passing the night of the concert when she had met Matty, but they hadn’t exactly exchanged words. Or gestures. Or glances. So really, she probably couldn’t say she had met them but more so stood within the presence of them. He had talked them up to no end while they had been speaking over the last while, and they seemed like pretty cool guys. She just really hoped that they weren’t going to be annoyed at her for crashing their plans.

“These are the lads.” Matty started proudly. “George,” A guy with light brown, curly hair flashed her a friendly smile. “Ross,” The one with darker hair and a bit of a beard waved slightly. “and Adam” The last one sitting on the couch with the short blonde hair also gave her a wave. “And guys this is-”

“Yes, we are already well aware who you are.” George cut him off as he walked over. His friendly smile seemed to betray the tired tone in his voice, but he pulled her into a tight hug regardless. “Lovely to meet you. Maybe Matty will finally stop talking about you now that you’re actually here to talk to.” He said with a soft laugh as he moved back, giving a pointed look in his friend’s direction.

“Ah, fuckin’ lay off it, George.” Matty sniggered as he shoved his friend in the shoulder. She let out an anxious laugh, trying not to dwell too much on what George had said. The five of them stood around for a moment, none of them entirely sure what the next thing to say was.

“So, uh,” She cleared her throat, “What’s on the agenda for The 1975 today?” She asked.

“We’re actually just on our way to soundcheck for the show tonight. The set time is earlier today so that we can make it to that party later.” Ross piped up, motioning towards the doors of the hotel.

“Yes, we’d better get going.” Adam added as they made their way out.

The venue was pretty close to their hotel, which was probably an intentional part of why they booked that hotel. They arrived without much fanfare, coming in through the back entrance to the venue without issue and making their way to the stage. Their setup seemed to be almost complete; the lighting rigs were already constructed, mics and instruments were already laid out in correct spots. The four boys walked around to the side of the stage while she decided to look on from the barrier. She watched eagerly as they wandered over to their respective positions, fine tuning instruments that had mostly already been set up for them. It was clearly such a frequent routine for them to go through this process. George altered the heights of a few of his drums, Adam was verifying that his guitar was in the tuning he had asked. Matty meanwhile just smiled down at her from the microphone. “Have you got any requests?” He asked with an eyebrow raised as he leaned forward over his mic. She just offered a shrug in return. “Aw, c’mon! You must have one?” He pressed.

“I have one.” George piped up from behind his kit. Matty threw him a curious look over his shoulder. “Depth.”

Matty frowned across the stage as he turned fully to look at his friend, “But there’s no vocals in that.” He argued.

“Exactly.” He laughed. Ross let out a snigger as he tuned up his bass, Adam was trying his best not to crack a smile.

“We can’t play that one, there’s no point in me being here if we play that one.” Matty said as he waved his hand dismissively at the band. “ _I_ wanna hear Sex.” He continued.

“More like you wanna _have_ sex.” Adam mumbled quietly.

“What was that, Hann?”

“Nothing.”

“Fine, let’s play it.” The drummer said before Matty’s brain could catch up and process what Adam had said. A grin spread across Matty’s face as he raced off to get his guitar.

He quickly made sure that it was in decent enough tune and fastened his capo onto the neck before starting to play the opening riff. She had been yet to witness him playing guitar properly. He had played a little bit during the encore of the show that she was able to catch, but she felt it was going to be different seeing it like this. And, it might have been, if it wasn’t _this_ song that Matty was playing. Because Matty had a very simple job during _this_ song: to play exactly one chord and strum for the whole thing. She frowned at this realisation when his hands never moved along the frets, but nonetheless hadn’t noticed that she had been zoning out watching him play. Her attention was finally brought back to the actual song. “She said use your hands and my spare time. We got one thing in common, it’s this tongue of mine.” As she looked back up at him, he flashed her a wink, obviously having caught her watching him. She decided to look at one of the other members of the band to try and cover up the way she could feel her cheeks warming up. In hindsight, she probably should’ve known better than to stand in front of Matty for this song.

She walked down slightly to Ross’s side of the stage, and he flashed her a smile as he saw her stop in front of him. Where Matty was constant high energy, and dancing, and just being an overall twat on stage, Ross was considerably more collected. He mostly just bopped along and tapped his foot, paying the most attention to his bass than anything else. She glanced down at Adam along the stage, and he more or less played the same as Ross, he just leaned into it a bit more. It was a considerably closer style to the bands that she had seen play in the past, rather than… whatever it was that Matty did while on stage. His eyes were already intently watching her as she glanced back over to him. “Does he take care of you? I could _easily_ fill his shoes,” A part of her felt like that wasn’t _quite_ how that lyric normally went, but she hadn’t really listened to the song enough times to know for sure. She’d heard the line in passing before, but hearing him sing it now had a different vibe to it. Especially coupled with the smirk sitting on his face. Previously she hadn’t taken notice of the way that he just had such a level of confidence and assurance in how he sung it. She wanted to laugh at how cocky it made him sound, but also found herself believing it probably came from some section of truth. “But you say no.” She walked back over to where Matty was now paying full attention to his guitar around his neck as he played out the bridge. Glancing behind him briefly at George, he just grinned broadly at her. It was too hard to see how he was playing from the floor, but he seemed to be having fun. She found that she had a better appreciation for the band now than what she had the last time she saw them play. “If we’re gonna do anythin’, we might as well just fuck. She’s got a boyfriend, anyway.” He sung, shrugging for what she assumed was emphasis on the lyrics. They finished the song with no issues, and instantly Ross and Adam started rattling a few things off to the people on either of their sides of the stage about their audio. Matty took the guitar off from around his shoulders and was clearly about to throw out a witty remark, but was quickly cut off before he could.

“You happy with your levels, Matty?” George shouted at him before he could get too distracted.

“Oh, erm, yeah.” He answered, pulling himself back into soundcheck reality. “Maybe turn the guitar down a bit, though.” He added.

He walked over and sat down on the edge of the stage, motioning for her to join him. “You play only one chord for that entire song.” She pointed out as she jumped over the barrier and sat next to him.

“Yeah?” He said with a frown, unsure why it was a point of interest.

“That’s hardly impressive guitar playing skills, I thought that’s what you were wanting to show off with that song. But obviously not.” She said with a chuckle.

“Pfft.” He let out a loud laugh. “I can do more impressive things than play guitar.” He added as he looked down at her.

“Do I even wanna know where you’re going with that?” She groaned.

“For once, it’s not a dirty joke.” He replied.

“Oh?” She questioned with her eyebrows raised, looking at him expectantly. That had to be a first. He took in a deep breath, and in about seven seconds flat, [he rattled off the alphabet backwards](https://youtu.be/79-VulKNZz4?t=127). There were a few moments of silence between them as she tried to process this new information. “I admit, that was fairly impressive.” She finally said.

“Told you.” He said with a triumphant grin. “Anyway, c’mon. We have some other shit to sort out before the show.” He said as he stood up, holding his hand out to help her up as well.

The band spent about an hour making sure that they were happy with soundcheck and the lighting for the gig. But after that they pretty much spent the rest of the evening hanging out in the fairly under-furnished dressing room trying to kill time until they were set to go on. George had apparently come prepared for this and pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket as they waited. She had expected hanging out with the four of them to be awkward, for her to have felt like the… fifth? wheel in this social setting. But they welcomed her in with open arms and treated her like they seemed to treat each other. It was a pleasant surprise to say the least, and the more she spoke with them the more she realised why Matty had picked these three men to spend the better part of his life with. As the show got closer a quiet fell over the four of them. The cards were packed away, a setlist was verified, crew were suddenly running around doing their final checks. The band paced back and forth a bit as they checked and double-checked instruments and ran over the new additions to the setlist, quietly mumbling things as they passed her. She just sat on a box backstage and watched with interest. It was a very different demeanour to the one that they’d all held an hour ago as they loudly joked and swore at each other. But she soon discovered that this was just the calm before the storm, and as soon as they were called to go on the first bolt of lightning struck. They shared a collective look as they walked out and Matty threw a smile her way over his shoulder as he left.

As soon as they stepped on stage the energy in the room shifted, and everyone got a little bit closer to the age that they were going to lose their hearing as Matty stepped up to his mic and the crowd lost their collective mind. Seeing the show from the very beginning was a far superior experience to only catching the end of it like last time. Each song had its own atmosphere and setting, largely affected by the segue backing ambience and the lighting. It was obvious that a good deal of love and care had been put into this being more than just a concert. She imagined that watching it from the back of the arena where she could get the most out of Adam’s visuals would be a sight to behold. Maybe she could do that during the show tomorrow. If she would be willing to give up the better view of Matty’s performance that she had here. His [dorky dance moves](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/046990_d54312778b4b4677831870a558a6d10d~mv2.gif) consistently got a laugh out of her, and once he’d realised that, they only seemed to be more frequent. He knew how to get a reaction out of people, that much was clear.

The show was going well. Every song had gone off without a hitch, the audience were responding well as per usual, Matty was having a grand old time. But he was also well aware of the audience that was watching him from the other side of the stage. This was the first show she had seen in its entirety. He wanted to make sure it was the most The 1975-y show he could make it. But he was fast running out of ideas that weren’t already in the show to begin with. The themes of jealousy were still running through the back of his mind after their soundcheck of Sex earlier. The more he thought about it, the more an idea formed in his brain. Y/N/N had reacted well to the song, but how would she react to a situation that might cause proper jealousy? Would she actually get jealous? He’d kissed fans at shows before, and they were the shows that got talked about the most. Did that count as a 1975-y show? He was curious to find out, and he wasn’t the sort of person to deny himself the answer to his curiosity once it had instilled itself in him.

It was during Robbers that he decided to put his idea into action. His eyes scanned the crowd for a girl that he could use for his plan. Once he’d found one, he just had to wait for the right moment. He made sure that she was watching him from her spot side stage before he jumped down into the space between the stage and the pit. Straight away his band mates and security were trained on him, watching him with apprehension. George rolled his eyes from his drumkit, already knowing exactly what Matty was set on doing. He quickly avoided the hands that reached out to grab him, making his way over to the girl. He placed a hand on the girl’s cheek, singing the last line before pulling her in for a kiss. As soon as he did it all that he could hear in his ears was the ringing from how many screams echoed around him. She froze almost instantly in shock at the situation. The thought crossed his mind to attempt to deepen the kiss, but he got the feeling that this girl wasn’t about to kiss him back any time soon so there was probably no point. He let it linger for a moment before laughing and moving back. She looked absolutely shell-shocked. He shouted a quick ‘thanks’ at her over his shoulder as he hopped back onto the stage. As soon as he was standing up next to his mic, he was met with George shaking his head at him.

“You’re too old to be doing that shit, Matthew.” His voice echoed through his earpiece. He glanced across the stage to where he knew she was standing, expecting maybe a look of surprise or anger or something. But her expression just seemed… disinterested? That didn’t seem right. He’d have to wait until the Greta speech played before he could go talk to her.

He played through the remaining few songs before the encore almost on autopilot, too focused on her reaction, or lack thereof, to really focus properly. When he finally finished I Always Wanna Die, he raced off stage, pretending he needed a bottle of water as his excuse.

“Any thoughts on the show?” He asked casually as he stepped over to where she was, taking a swig from the water bottle.

“Why do you do shit like that?” She asked, trying her best to hide the sour expression that was wanting to show itself.

“Like what?” He asked innocently as he put the bottle down and quickly wiped a towel down his face.

She nodded in the direction of the fan he had kissed a few minutes ago. “ _That_. Make out with fans during the show.” She elaborated.

“Are you jealous?” He asked with a shit eating grin.

“Hardly.” She scoffed. As much as jealousy did definitely sit at the pit of her stomach, she was more so just unpleasantly surprised to see that he’d do something like that in the position he was in, in front of so many people. “Makes it a lot less desirable if you just put it on show like that.” His face fell at her remark. Wait. That wasn’t-

“Well, I don’t properly _mean_ it.” He tried to explain, suddenly having to backpedal a _lot_ from how he expected this conversation to go, “I do it because they want me to, and it’s fun, I guess. Adds to the experience of the show.” He added with a shrug.

“But then you have to deal with all the shit that comes _after_ that. I have no doubt that she’s already posted about it online somewhere or other.” She pointed out with a serious look. He agreed. He would be willing to bet money that she probably had. Or someone else had on her behalf. It was definitely out there by now.

“Good. Publicity for us.” He said with a light-hearted laugh, trying to at least kind of recover from where this conversation had ended up.

“Just seems like a hell of a lot more effort than it’s worth. It can’t be easy having thousands of girls out there judging you for it. And it must detract from the times you actually do mean it.” Her last comment instantly threw him off. This was not at all how he wanted this to play out. But he could entirely see her point and suddenly he felt incredibly short sighted for not considering it sooner. He felt like his brain was shorting out as he fumbled to come up with a response that didn’t make him seem like an absolute knob for just doing that. But maybe the only way to seem like slightly less of one was to just admit that he just _was_.

“C’mon Matty, we’re on.” Adam shouted at him as he walked past. He felt like he shouldn’t just leave this conversation at that, but he didn’t really have much of an option as he ran back out on stage. _Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck._

He played the rest of the show very much avoiding the side of the stage where the girl was that he’d just kissed. An uncomfortable feeling of guilt quickly overtook him whenever he glanced in that direction. He felt like a kid who had just been given the ‘I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed’ talk by their parents. As a result, his normal level of energy was definitely lacking during their encore, but for only four songs the audience hardly noticed. Y/N/N did, though. She’d seen this bit before, and it wasn’t the same this time. She was surprised that her words had cut him that deeply. The internet had shown her pretty quickly that this was not a new thing for Matty Healy, so why was this any different than those other times? As they finished up their set, he felt like he should probably apologise for what he’d done, but before he even got the chance the five of them were already being ushered away from the stage. They got dragged through to the back of the venue where a few various selections of clothes were waiting for them to change into for the after party. Ross, George and Adam pretty quickly picked what they wanted and wandered off in the direction of somewhere to change. The rush to get them all ready and out of the arena in time made Matty shove his thoughts to the back of his mind for now as he picked out a half decent suit to wear, changing into it quickly before he could change his mind.

“Why do I have to be dressed up as well?” She grumbled as she flicked through the stuff sitting on the rack.

“Why not?” He asked with a mischievous grin. “Because you’d stick out like a sore thumb if you didn’t.” He added seriously as he adjusted the tie around his neck. “I assure you that I’d rather not have to either. It’s some posh event… thing, that the label wants me at. Everyone has to dress up.” He explained as he sat down on the small couch that was positioned in the room and slipped his dress shoes on.

“Is this like an award sorta party or some crazy rock star party or what?” She asked, deliberating over whether she actually wanted to go or not. Especially after his antics during the show, it was debatable whether she wanted to be known as hanging around him.

“There’s no press if that’s what you’re worried about.” He started with a laugh. She fucking hated it sometimes that he seemed to have such a knack for deciphering what she was really asking him between the lines. But she had to admit it was reassuring information to know nonetheless. “It’s just some networking shit. Staying in touch with people whose names are good to have in our phones. Pretty tame stuff. Open bar, though.” He grinned at the last bit. She nodded thoughtfully. That sounded doable. She opted to pick something simple to change into, and pretty much as soon as she returned from getting changed, they were all shoved into a car and on their way.

The party was already in full swing by the time they arrived, but as soon as they stepped in it was obvious that everyone had been waiting for the band. The four of them were quickly pulled this way and that for ‘hello’s and ‘how have you been’s, leaving her to sort of aimlessly follow them along. George, Ross and Adam all seemed very animated and chatty. Matty however, answered mostly in grunts and nods. He hated parties. They were just such an incredible source of fake pleasantries and people pretending that they remembered each other. It radiated the unrelenting feeling of narcissism. These people didn’t care about him, they just cared about potential partnerships and money. And too many of these people at these parties knew him and knew the things he used to get up to in past years. It was a risky game for him to be at parties these days, he was too likely to receive offers he’d rather not have to deal with. But he was already tired after the show, he just wanted to go back to his hotel room, shower and sleep. Eventually after listening to the fifth rendition of ‘how’s tour going?’, Y/N/N wandered off in search of a drink and maybe a place to wait out the party. Matty watched enviously as she walked away from the conversation he was tied to. George’s voice eventually broke him out of his daydream of the freedom of being able to leave this hellscape.

“We’re really happy to be here.” George said with a good level of sincerity. He did genuinely seem to be enjoying himself. “Aren’t we, _Matthew_?” He said with a pointed look in his friend’s direction.

“Yep.” He said, popping the ‘p’ for an attempt at emphasis as he scanned the room for the bar. The conversation continued without his presence, until eventually the people walked away and George’s hand landed on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” He asked Matty with a frown.

“Moping.” He answered with a tired smile. “I just wanna get stoned and sleep, man.” He added.

“You just wanna go talk to your girl.” Adam laughed loudly, causing the other two to start cracking up as well.

Matty just rolled his eyes, “Oh, fuck off.”

“Would we really be your mates if we didn’t give you a hard time for bringing a girl out here?” The drummer said with a grin as he shoved Matty in the shoulder. “Go talk to people for a bit,” He said, spinning Matty on the spot to face a group of people standing at the other end of the room. “And at least pretend like you’re having fun.” He added.

“Yes, mum.” He huffed as he walked off.

He drifted in and out of a few different conversations, pretending to be interested and present, just like those he was speaking to. But the longer he was at the party, the easier it was for him to flip the switch and go into work mode. To network and make contacts that might benefit him down the line. He eventually ran into a few people he knew whose company he actually enjoyed and hadn’t seen in a while. That lifted his mood, albeit slightly. He gravitated around those select few to try and avoid the rest of the event around him. On the other side of the room, Y/N/N found herself watching the one person she knew at the party eagerly invested in a conversation with a bunch of people she didn’t recognise. Not that she overly expected herself to, but a part of her still tried to pinpoint who these people were. People just seemed to gravitate to him, he had that level of passive magnetism that drew people over, and she assumed his charisma was what kept them there. Certainly she knew that it was what convinced her to keep hanging around him. It felt strange seeing the same effect on other people. A naïve part of her had hoped it was a connection that only the two of them shared, but apparently not. As she looked around the room, she was reminded that she felt pretty out of place here. It all felt too fancy and high-class, and there wasn’t really any point in trying to speak to any of these people that she would more than likely never see again.

“You look a bit lost, love.” She heard a familiar voice say. As she turned around, she saw George walking over to her, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Well, I pretty much only know him,” She said as she gestured her glass towards Matty, “and he’s sort of… otherwise occupied.” She laughed, trying to play off the unpleasant feeling sitting in her chest.

“Ah, that’s not true! You know us, now.” He said as a broad grin spread onto his features. “Come on.” He said as he began walking off. She assumed that was her cue to follow. Eventually they reached a small corner of the party with a few seats scattered across it, which happened to be the spot where the other two members of their band had opted to hang out. They let out a cheer as George walked over.

“Hey! Did you get more beer?” Ross asked eagerly.

“No, but I did rescue our friend.” He answered as he pulled a seat over for her, sitting himself down in the one next to it.

“These parties can quickly get overwhelming.” Adam said with an understanding nod. “There’s just… so many people _everywhere_.” He added as his eyes glanced around the room behind her warily.

The four of them talked amongst themselves for a while. Matty had already told them pretty much everything she had told him, so George started their chat with: ‘Tell us something you haven’t told him yet’. It worked surprisingly well for opening up the door to easy flowing conversation. They spoke about anything and everything for roughly an hour in peace, until the missing member of their group finally found them. He wandered into their conversation silently, before sprawling himself out face down onto the tiled floor. “Get off the floor.” George said as he kicked his friend in the thigh.

“I was charming and social for nearly two hours. Can we go now?” Matty mumbled from his place on the ground.

“No. This thing still goes for another couple of hours.” He answered. Matty let out a loud groan at this news. “Get _up_.” He added through gritted teeth, still trying to get his friend to at least sit in a chair and look somewhat professional. The boy did not budge from the floor.

“We’re going to get some drinks.” Ross said as he stood up, with Adam following close behind him.

George looked at them, before looking back down at Matty and sighing. “Yeah, I need one of them too.” He agreed as he started heading in the same direction.

As soon as their footsteps left his earshot, Matty rolled over on the floor. He sat up a bit to make sure that they weren’t still looking at him before glancing over at Y/N/N, “Let’s get out of here.” He said as a grin spread across his face. It was a lot less of a question than it was a statement.

“Don’t you _have_ to be here? I thought this was your thing.” She asked with a look of confusion.

“I’m sure they have it covered.” He waved a hand in the direction that the rest of the band had walked off in. “They’ve all been sitting here bullshitting with you while I’ve been off being the good frontman. That’s what _I_ ’m meant to be doing, let them do the boring shit for a bit.” He laughed. “Wanna go get some food? I hear there’s this really wicked place near here that’s open late. Everyone’s been fuckin’ talking about it.”

“Sure.” She shrugged, happy for a way out of this earlier than expected. At the end of the day, it wasn’t her party to have to have to attend. She’d only come along because Matty insisted on it. He scrambled up off of the floor instantly, taking a quick look around to make sure that he wasn’t being watched too closely before ushering her out of the venue.

“And then we can go back to my place.” He added with a suggestive look as they reached the exit.

“You don’t have a place here.” She pointed out, shaking her head at him with a small smile.

“My hotel, I mean.” He clarified.

“We’re staying in the same hotel, Matty. We _have_ to go back to the same place.” She said with a laugh. He tried to keep his cool, but a small laugh still escaped.

“You ruined it. I take back my offer, you can’t come back with me. Get a different hotel.”

By the time they managed to sneak out of the party it was nearing on midnight. They walked down the fairly empty street towards this restaurant that he was raving about. Apparently, it had some crazy new dish that he had heard about through a friend of a friend and everyone at the party was recommending it. They’d all been checking it out while the band had to play their show. It was hardly reasonable of them to talk it up so much without expecting Matty to want to try it for himself. He mostly spoke about what other random things the people in the party had been trying to speak to him about while they made their way down the street. As they stood in front of the pretty fancy looking establishment, she suddenly felt nervous. It was a different nervous from the usual level of anxiety she felt being around someone as sporadic and forward as Matty, this was much more of a self-conscious nervous. She wasn’t sure if it was his joke striking a different chord when they were leaving or something else that had burrowed its way into her brain, but she just had this overwhelming feeling that- “Is this a date?” She eventually asked, cutting him off mid-sentence.

He frowned at her for a moment, snuffing out the cigarette he had been smoking before speaking, “No.”

She looked from the restaurant, to the suit he was still wearing, to the fancy shit he had convinced her to wear, to the fact that it was just the two of them. His words weeks ago about not being in a place to want to make decisions like that ran through her mind, but it still didn’t feel right. “Are you sure this isn’t a date?” She asked again.

“Do you want it to be one?” He questioned.

“No, I just…” She trailed off, suddenly unsure if that answer was true or not.

“Why would it be a date?” He continued as he held open the door for her.

“Well, you’re dressed fancy, I’m dressed fancy-” She started.

“We just got out of a party.” He answered, quickly asking for a table for the both of them.

“-the guys aren’t here-” She reminded.

“Only because we ditched them.”

“-and we’re at some super nice place to get dinner.”

He had to laugh at that. “We can go to McDonalds if you’d prefer?” He offered with an eyebrow raised, waiting expectantly before taking his seat.

“No, no. I just thought…” She elected to just swallow her nerves and roll with it. Which was the majority of how she had to interact with Matty, anyway. “Just wanted to know.”

They both sat down at the table, Matty declining the menus offered by the waiter and just ordering two of the dish that everyone else had been ordering all night and two drinks for them. It was nice for him to finally have a moment where nobody else was around. Since she’d arrived at the hotel earlier today it was non-stop. The break and chance to properly catch up was a breath of fresh air after the chaos of the day.

“How’re you finding the guys?” He asked eventually as he took a sip from his glass, curiosity burning at the back of his mind about what they could have been chatting about for so long while he was busy. Those boys had more than enough incriminating stories about him from across the years, but he had faith that they wouldn’t throw him under the bus like that. Yet.

“Good! They’re really nice,” She said with a grin. “I can see why you picked those three to start a band with.”

A smile slowly spread across his face as he dwelled on the thought of his friends. He imagined they were gonna be pretty shitty at him once they realised that he’d bailed on the party. They put up with a lot of crap from him. They were good guys. “Yeah, they’re pretty great. I dunno where I’d be without them.” He admitted with a shrug.

“Did they do a good job of staving you from boredom?” He questioned casually.

“Yeah, we just chatted about what it was like to work the show from behind the scenes rather than playing on the front lines.” She replied.

He nodded. That seemed like a George sort of topic. Common ground that everyone could discuss easily. Good call. “Do you do it a lot?”

“Not a huge amount. I’d do it more if I could but it’s kind of just a seasonal thing that I do with my brother. It’s really fun though. I always love chatting to people at shows.” She answered, the enthusiasm for the work instantly seeping into her voice. 

“Would you do it more if the opportunity came up?”

“I suppose so. It’s pretty decent money for doing a fun job.” She said. He hummed thoughtfully at that. Maybe that information could work in his favour. The more time he spent with her, the better he felt overall. He couldn’t deny that the idea of having her around more frequently was a tempting one.

As they waited for the food to arrive, Matty found his mind drifting back to the gig. The feeling of guilt still sat heavily in his chest. He should’ve known better than to try something like that. To try and force a reaction from someone, especially by doing something intentionally abrasive. At this point in his life some would think that personal experience would’ve taught him a thing or two from previous mistakes, but apparently old habits of recklessness die hard. He rested his elbows on the table, dragging his hands down his face before finally getting out what he had been wanting to say. “I’m sorry by the way, about earlier.”

She looked up at him curiously, unsure what exactly it was that he was talking about. “For what?”

“During the show.” He elaborated with a sigh as he rested his chin on his folded hands, glancing down at his half-finished drink. Oh. _That_ was what he was talking about. “I didn’t mean for it to come across like that, and in hindsight it was stupid of me to think that I could still get away with shit like that. I was just being a bit of an arrogant twat. Sorry.” He apologised.

She wasn’t entirely sure why he felt the need to elaborate on what had happened. It was seeming pretty obvious that pulling stunts like that was just tied in with those aspects of Matty’s personality. With blunt honesty, came a lack of filter. With the level of confidence he exuded, came a blurred line on what was showing off and what was just being egotistical. But that was his issue to sort out, he didn’t have to apologise to her for his mistakes. “You know that you don’t have to explain yourself to me, right?”

He just silently tapped at the tattoo above his right elbow. ‘[Weak messages create bad situations](https://scontent.fper5-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/122748451_10218397760839536_8605989385466495032_n.jpg?_nc_cat=107&ccb=2&_nc_sid=0debeb&_nc_ohc=w2XphDG38JkAX8TJSFy&_nc_ht=scontent.fper5-1.fna&oh=fa7f155254b1b7a0aa699407f335e8dd&oe=5FBC1E88)’ - right. “I don’t like leaving things unsaid. I didn’t want you to think that I didn’t notice that I’d done it.” He explained as their food was placed in front of them.

Once their food was in front of them and Matty had gotten that off of his chest, conversation was back to normal between them. They bullshitted about music that they had been listening to, and about the people that they had seen at the party. It was a good thing that it was so late because they didn’t have to worry about their laughter disrupting any other tables. Eventually the restaurant was closing and the staff kicked them out. It was too late to want to continue partying on, and Matty still wanted a decent night’s sleep after playing a show tonight and only just flying in the night prior. They made their way back to the hotel and up to their hotel rooms. Of course, Matty had made sure that her room was booked right next to his. His fantastic pickup lines wouldn’t work if they were on separate floors. He fumbled around in his pockets before calling her name to grab her attention before she stepped into her room. “I lost my hotel room key… Can I borrow yours?” He asked with a puppy dog eyed look.

“Nice try.” She laughed.

He let out a low laugh as he pulled his key out of his wallet, “Can’t blame me for trying.” He unlocked the door, propping it open for a moment as he looked back at her. “We’ve got that photoshoot thing tomorrow near midday, so let me know when you’re awake. But otherwise, sweet dreams. You know where I am if you need me.” He said with a wink.

“G’night, Matty.” She called out, shutting her door behind her.

* * *

Thankfully for everyone, they didn’t have to start their morning the next day too early. They had gotten back anywhere between two and three in the morning after their various adventures and were all in dire need of sleep. It wasn’t until about ten that the five of them found themselves crowded around a small table in the hotel restaurant, trying to finish a complimentary continental breakfast before they stopped offering the service.

“So… where did you two get off to last night? You abandoned us at the afterparty.” Ross asked casually as he stirred his tea. George started laughing before Matty even had the chance to speak, and only laughed harder after he had answered Ross’s question.

“We were off having wild, kinky sex while you guys were stuck at the party.” Matty deadpanned. “Weren’t we?” He asked with a suggestive grin in her direction.

“Totally.” She scoffed.

“How is he?” George asked with an amused smile once his laughter had calmed down a bit.

“Awful.” She answered, instantly getting George into hysterics again, Ross and Adam quickly following suit.

“Hey!” Matty shouted. “That’s not true!” He continued.

“What were you _really_ doing?” Ross asked again through chuckles.

“We went out for dinner.” She answered before Matty could make something else up.

“Oh?” George looked over at his best friend with his eyebrows raised in curiosity. That was considerably more interesting information to George than if they would have hooked up. Matty wasn’t a stranger to one-night stands, but to dates? That was a bit different. He hadn’t been on a date since his girlfriend left him over three months ago. Matty flashed him a look across the table that he knew meant ‘you’d better shut up before I make you shut up’, so he decided to harass him about it later.

It wasn’t long after they finally finished their meal that a taxi was sent over to take them to this photoshoot. It was a magazine cover that the whole band were set to feature on, the story it was relating to had already been interviewed a few weeks prior over the phone. As soon as they arrived, each of the four members of the band were offered a limited selection of outfits to choose from to best coordinate for the photo. Y/N/N waited patiently while each of them picked what they wanted and went off to get changed. It wasn’t long before Matty came sauntering out of the side room dressed in a grey suit jacket and pants over a black turtleneck. The overall look suited him well. Suits looked good on him. “What do you think?” He asked as he did a small spin on the spot. As she quickly gave him a once over, she noticed that he also had on glasses. It was a strange sight to see. Not necessarily a bad one, just one that she had never had to process before. The longer she looked at the glasses, the more she realised that they didn’t reflect any light.

“What the fuck are those?” She asked, taking a closer look at the metal frame sitting on his face. They most definitely didn’t have lenses in them and served no purpose. Was he just trying to be ironic?

“What?” He asked in confusion as she went to jab a finger through one of the empty lenses. Thankfully, it missed his eye. “Fuck off!” He laughed as he stepped back, slapping her hand away from his face.

“ _You_ fuck off. What’s with these?” She chuckled, taking them off of his face. “You don’t wear glasses.”

“How do you know that?” He asked with a smug grin.

“I feel like I would’ve seen it by now.” She narrowed her eyes at him, challenging him to prove that he needed glasses. Without lenses. For some reason.

“I could just wear contacts all the time.” He continued, before dropping the act and answering properly. “I used to need glasses, don’t anymore. Needing glasses destroyed my penchant for sunglasses so I got laser done. But I was gonna wear these today because it looks cool. Makes me look sophisticated and shit.” He took the glasses back from her and placed them back on the bridge of his nose.

“You don’t need to _look_ sophisticated. Anyone who speaks to you learns pretty quickly that you have a vocabulary better than a dictionary.” She pointed out.

“Yeah but people aren’t gonna be able to talk to me through the cover of a magazine. Are they, love?” He chuckled, adjusting his suit jacket.

“Fair point.” She nodded.

The rest of the band slowly filed into the room, all with similarly coloured black and grey outfits. They looked like a cohesive unit when they were all dressed in coordination like this. Most of the time they just looked like a group of mates hanging out together. Which, to be fair, both descriptions were correct. Once the photographer was happy with how everyone was dressed and styled, they were dragged into a white room for the shoot. Y/N/N stood at the back of the room, watching keenly as the photographer shouted directions, set up the lighting, altered settings. It was interesting getting to see the whole procedure behind processes like this, but also incredibly distracting considering the company that she was with for it. Matty spent the majority of the shoot being told off for making stupid faces at her to get her to laugh. He wanted to take it seriously, but it was far too tempting to be an idiot when he knew she was just so easy to get a reaction out of. If he wasn’t allowed to make dumb faces, then he just got the guys to stand in really weird poses with him, much to their displeasure. Whenever they complained about it, he just explained that it was [‘art’](https://scontent.fper5-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/122725831_10218397762119568_4369856248951005053_n.jpg?_nc_cat=106&ccb=2&_nc_sid=0debeb&_nc_ohc=KPBp7sgOYrIAX8zH-Si&_nc_ht=scontent.fper5-1.fna&oh=a95e7bf9c69afc215872ab6f6b16e3ce&oe=5FBB17B5). As a result, it took a little over an hour until they were able to get the shots that they wanted, but they got them. After the photo shoot was done, the day played out very similarly to the day before. They went across to the second venue for today’s show, completed soundcheck and then were soon enough waiting anxiously to go on stage.

“Excited?” She asked Matty as he paced around the room.

He just shrugged as he ran a hand through his messy curls, “Same amount of nerves as always.”

“Any grand plans for tonight’s show?” She asked, trying her best to seem serious but still cracking a smile.

He stopped pacing, turning to face her. “No,” He laughed, knowing exactly what she was taking a jab at. “I promise that there’s nothing special on the agenda.” He assured.

One of the stage crew walked past, shouting out that they were on in two minutes. The band quickly assembled themselves side stage, letting out a few deep breaths before starting to walk out. She considered that if this was going to become a regular thing, she’d have to invest in some earplugs to save herself from going deaf in the near future. The show was a lot easier to enjoy knowing that Matty was just performing and not intentionally trying to show off like he was the night before. His stage presence was almost better when he wasn’t trying; he got lost in the moment a lot easier when he wasn’t gauging her reaction every five seconds. The songs only sounded better the more times that she was hearing them, and she made a mental note to properly watch the impressive light show from the back of the crowd the next time that she was in this position. Because she had a distinct feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time that she would be watching their live show. However, she found that the most impressive part of the show wasn’t the music, or the lights, or Matty’s dancing skills.

“Hey, you all have to pay attention for a few minutes.” Matty said into his microphone, giving a serious look towards the crowd before their intermission speech started playing. Ross, George and Adam all walked off the stage, each grabbing a drink of water and taking a breather. But Matty stayed. The night prior he had run off stage to speak to her, so she was unaware that this was normally what he did. He turned his attention away from the audience, standing and facing the screens. The look on his face as he listened to the speech was nothing short of attentive. Even as he lit up a cigarette and sat down on the stage, his interest never wandered. His gaze flicked between the three screens that they had set up, but he never turned to look at the crowd, or to look side stage. He just sat, and listened. She supposed that he probably did it to set a good example for everyone in the audience, that if he paid attention, they all would too. But to see him so focused on the messages being displayed, to be so passionate for the cause, felt special. It felt [powerful](https://66.media.tumblr.com/7df2d052e9ce6887ff0e2c8b0ed29864/2e3dd761c82a8922-a2/s540x810/e15ec6da9c298b7631d0b77fe6e0fdfe0fb4ddca.jpg). The show continued after that with even more passion than what he had put into the first portion of it. For the first time, she saw the whole show uninterrupted, and loved every single second.

It was fairly early on the Sunday morning that she had to catch her flight home, so they skipped the partying after their set. As much as hanging out with the band was fun, she did have to eventually head home and try to land some more work to get her through the summer. The next morning, she was waiting in the hotel lobby with her bags, having already said her goodbyes to Ross, Adam and George. Matty stood next to her, rocking back and forth onto the balls of his feet as he tried to prolong saying goodbye. “It was really good seeing you again.” He said with a genuine smile, “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.” He added.

“Oh? You’re _sure_?” She laughed with an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah!” He said with a snorted laugh. “Admit it, you’ll be back because you totally want a piece of this.” He added, looking at her over the frame of his sunglasses as he gestured at himself. She would’ve liked to have thought that hearing this joke the second time around it would’ve had less impact on her reaction, but it seemed harder to shrug it off this time.

She had to look away from him to keep her face neutral as she answered him. “Even _if_ I did, I would never give you the ego boost by telling you.” She knew deep down that a part of her was lying about the former part of her statement, but she was definitely pretty firm on the latter.

He hummed in consideration at her answer, “Never?”

“Never.” She repeated assuredly. He didn’t say anything else, and when she looked over at him the grin on his face was nothing short of devious. “What?” She asked with a frown.

“Nothing.” He shrugged.

“ _What_?” She repeated.

He pulled her in for a tight hug, “Don’t set me a challenge if you aren’t prepared to have it beaten.” He said lowly into her ear before moving back. The tone of his voice sent a shiver down her spine, and suddenly she wished she hadn’t said anything at all. He said a brief goodbye, flashed her a parting grin, and then was already on his way. “Have a good flight.” He shouted, waving over his shoulder as he headed back towards the elevators.


	5. Where's the Fun in Doin' What You're Told?

After his comment when she was leaving the hotel, she had expected Matty to be in pretty regular contact with cheesy one-liners and attempts to win her over. But how much they spoke to each other actually seemed to mysteriously lessen. A part of her wanted to ask him about it, but the other part of her assumed that he was probably just busy finishing off the tour that he was on. Eventually, she had the feeling that she might have worked out why he was suddenly less chatty. It was heard through the grapevine that perhaps a certain band with a certain curly haired frontman were travelling back in her general direction. There were rumours that they might be booked as a last-minute additional headliner for a nation-wide festival to try and move their ticket sales. The day before the news was officially announced, Matty texted her a picture of the line-up for the festival with ‘The 1975’ haphazardly scrawled across the top of it by him.

_11:16am You should work this. The line-up looks good._

**11:19am I’m not sure, looks pretty meh if you ask me. That headliner is a bit overrated.**

_11:20am :O_

She laughed lightly as his message before just telling him the truth. It surprised her that he hadn’t already heard this news from his bandmates, because it had come up the weekend prior at the party under the conversation starter of ‘things Matty doesn’t know yet’.

**11:20am I’m already working it. Got asked to a little while ago.**

Her phone started ringing the second after that message had been received.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked as soon as she answered the call.

“I figured you’d find out soon enough.” She answered with a shrug he couldn’t see. “You only just got home, didn’t you? When do you fly out again?” She asked.

“In two days. I won’t be at your stop on the festival tour for a little under two weeks, though.” He explained. From the background noises she could hear, it sounded like he was at a restaurant or café or something. She absent-mindedly wondered who he was out with. “You reckon you can wait that long?” He added.

“I think I’ll survive, Matty.” She replied with a laugh.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend.” He continued, the teasing tone instantly finding its way into his voice.

“Oh, good to know. In which case I will definitely die a slow and painful death by next Wednesday if you don’t get here before then.” She shot back seriously. 

There was a pause on the other end of the line before he began chuckling, “Well, you have to wait until next Sunday before we can hang out. Don’t die before then.” He said. 

“You know that it’s proper work, yeah? I can’t just sit around with you all day.” She asked, knowing full well that festival merch was _very_ different to headline concert merch.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

* * *

“This is _boring._ ” Matty groaned from his spot on the floor of the merch tent where he was fiddling with her permanent marker. He’d come down to merch as soon as the band arrived on site, and had been sitting in the merch tent for nearly an hour now. She had tried her best to warn him about the difference between counting in and displaying merch for one headliner and support act compared to a festival line-up with 20 bands that all had a minimum of two shirt designs each, but he hadn’t listened. The workload was especially bad considering her brother wasn’t here, he wasn’t meant to be getting in on his flight from the previous stop on the festival track to help her until well after doors had opened. But Matty insisted on coming down anyway despite this.

“That sounds like a _you_ problem.” She laughed as she continued counting shirts from what felt like the millionth box that she had opened. His company was nice, but it was also fairly distracting. “You could help me, you know.” She added.

“I am helping. I am providing essential company.” He answered as he reached over and pulled a slip of cardboard off the ground.

“How did you manage to swing coming back here for a national tour so soon after you _just_ left, anyway?” She asked. It had surprised her to hear that he had been able to organise an international tour to the same country twice within as many months. It didn’t seem very viable to the band to be back in the same spot so quickly.

“We had downtime once we finished up the tour that we were on.” He shrugged. “I just suggested that we find something else to do and saw this. Put it to Jamie that we offer to be a last-minute addition to the set and he sorted it.”

“Isn’t downtime meant to be for actually having a break from this stuff?” She asked as she moved onto the next box.

“Downtime is boring.” He huffed.

“Burning the candle at both ends a bit there, Matty.”

“Death is inevitable, and I’d rather die busy than die bored.” He deadpanned. She glanced over at him, expecting him to be having some deep philosophical moment over this information. But there he was, sitting on the floor of her merch tent, scrawling a drawing of a dog on a piece of cardboard in permanent marker. “Look, it’s Allen.” He said with a grin as he held up the drawing.

As much as he felt like boredom was about to overtake him, Matty was adamant on hanging out in the merch tent for as long as he could. She had actively set him a challenge by telling him that she’d never say that she was into him. He already knew full well that at least a part of her was, even if only for superficial reasons, because she wouldn’t react to him in the ways that she did if she wasn’t. It was potentially a bit arrogant of him, but he had pretty good reason to believe that he was fairly proficient on picking up other people’s signals and being charming. So, her comment was just a red flag to a bull; to say that she’d _never_ tell him something like that. He had been thinking on the best way to go about it, and certainly step one was to maximise the amount of time that they were actually in each other’s space. Being able to come out for the festival was something in the interim until he could come up with a more concrete idea, but he wasn’t about to waste any time that he had available. Step two was that he had to work out the right buttons to press to get her to admit that she fancied him. There was a fine line between being a sleaze and being charmingly flirtatious. He liked to think that he walked that line pretty well. But nonetheless he had to be careful that he was pressing the right buttons, and not crossing that line by pressing the wrong ones. That was going to be a meticulous process of trial and error. He watched her with mild curiosity as she worked around the tent, trying to think of half decent ways to get her attention.

“Give us your phone.” He said after a few minutes of silence.

“Why?” She asked without looking up from the numbers she was entering into her spreadsheet.

“So that I can play some tunes.” He answered.

“Just play music off your own phone?” She frowned as she glanced down at him.

“International roaming is expensive and I know that you have stuff downloaded. Please?” He asked with a sappy smile. She rolled her eyes before grabbing her phone out of her pocket and handing it to him. As soon as he opened her phone, he saw that it was still sitting on their text chain and then noticed that his number was still… just that, his number. Not his name. Not a dorky nickname. Not anything. “Hey! Why haven’t you saved my number? It’s been nearly two months since I gave you that!”

“Why are you snooping through my phone?” She asked with a slight laugh. “I know who you are, I don’t have to save it. Maybe I’m trying to value your privacy in case certain people in my life decide to search through my phone when they’re _meant_ to be playing music.” That second part about valuing his privacy was an afterthought to cover her own laziness for not having saved his contact, but it sounded good.

“Not my fault that you had it open on our conversation history.” He mumbled under his breath, shrugging as he quickly saved his contact as a kissing emoji.

A little while passed in silence, and she was beginning to get worried that he actually _was_ going through her phone looking for something. There wasn’t anything too incriminating on there, but if he went into the right conversations on the right apps he might find some comments she had made about him that she’d rather he didn’t know. “Are you gonna play something, or what?” She asked after about ten minutes of him scrolling, trying to keep the nerves out of her voice.

“In a minute, I’m just [making a playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6SbH9zKv84Gb4KRlqY2Iza?si=YIndDXYPQ2WIoq25UiWmZA).” He answered. Shortly after that, the beginning of Feeling This by Blink 182 filled the tent. She nodded her head in approval at his choice, having not heard the song in a while. It wasn’t until a few songs had passed that she was beginning to notice a common theme in his playlist. XO, Situations, Lying Is the Most Fun, Shake It… these were all songs blatantly about sex. Sure as anything, as soon as she realised what he was doing, Sex by The 1975 started playing. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“I am beginning to sense some underlying messages here.” She chuckled, leaning against the counter to face him.

“Hm?” He questioned, looking up at her in confusion.

“Don’t play dumb, Matty.” She said as she shook her head.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. What underlying messages?” He asked innocently. As soon as she went to call him out on it, the doubt in the back of her mind set in that maybe it _was_ just a coincidence. There were about 4,000 songs on her phone, it was possible, albeit unlikely, that maybe it was just chance. Was she just pulling a pattern together herself? Unless he just wanted her to _think_ that it was all in her head? That sounded like something he’d do. The longer she took to answer, [the worse the smirk on his face got](https://66.media.tumblr.com/763b753e154edf6871b40431be6c8860/tumblr_pvzklnaBgU1xgxtyyo1_540.gifv).

Thankfully before she had to dive headfirst into that conversation, there was a noise from the other side of the tent. “You both still alive in there?” A familiar voice called as George poked his head in through the door.

“George! Hey!” She grinned as he stepped inside over Matty’s legs and pulled her in for a hug. “Good to see you.” She added as she hugged him back tightly.

“Hi, love! Hope he hasn’t been too painful?” He asked as he gestured down to their friend on the floor. She looked behind George at Matty, only to see him smiling up at her unassumingly. The music had also mysteriously stopped.

“He’s been… interesting.” She laughed. He just gave an over exaggerated wink in response.

“Well, I am here to take him off your hands.” He said as he offered a hand out to the frontman. “Doors are in thirty, Matt. Come on.” Matty grabbed his hand, standing up with a sigh. The two of them headed out of the tent, and she was glad that she might finally be able to get the last of her work done.

“Oh, wait!” She heard Matty shout as he suddenly came barrelling back into the merch tent, a wristband in hand. “Here, you need one of these.” He said as he took her left wrist in his hand and secured the all access wristband. He intentionally let his movements linger, and it didn’t go unnoticed. She just looked at him sceptically as he pulled his hands away, trying to work out what the hell he was doing. If he could work out her weak spots, he could easily use them to his advantage. He would just have to keep testing the waters until he hit the mark. “See you later!” He shouted as he ran out to catch up with George.

“What _are_ you doing?” The drummer asked him with a tired look.

“Nothin’.” He shrugged, smiling to himself.

The half an hour until doors opened flew by in no time at all, and soon the torrent of concert goers started to flow in through the gates. Management running the festival had told her that it was sold out, and festivals were generally a much higher capacity than a regular concert, so it was anticipated to be a pretty busy day. Especially when she was working by herself for the first half of it. She hadn’t quite been able to finish all of the set up by the time that she had to start serving customers, probably in thanks to Matty, which meant that the first hour of selling shirts was also coupled with folding the remaining shirts. But time goes quickly when you’re busy, so it was not long at all before her brother suddenly appeared in the tent, and then by their powers combined the sales were through the roof. The merch tent ran like a well-oiled machine when the two of them worked together, and the more they sold the more efficient it got. It wasn’t until her phone buzzed in her pocket that she snapped out of Sales ModeTM and came back to reality. It had been nearly six hours of solid selling, and she was starting to feel the effects of standing up for so long. She was probably due for a break soon. Which, apparently Matty shared the same sentiment. Or, at least that’s who she assumed the new contact that was listed as just a winking kiss emoji was. She had to chuckle a little at his choice of contact name.

**3:46pm Come hang out.**

_3:52pm Can’t. Have to work._

She shot back as another person stepped up to the counter. She would have to wait until it got a bit quieter before she got her chance to go grab some food.

**3:53pm Just get someone else to cover.**

_3:59pm There isn’t anyone else to cover. I’m here to work, I can’t just dick around with you all day._

The sales continued, the sun started dipping a bit lower in the sky, the bands on stage came and went. By this point in the day the festival was in full swing, and it was slowly but surely dying down at the merch tent. The people that were lining up now were the ones who took a million years to decide, then had to message their friend to check if they should get that shirt or the other shirt, and then in the end said ‘I’ll be back later’ only to never return. As she was waiting patiently for any of them to step up and actually buy something, she heard her name being called from the back of the merch tent. She turned to see her brother on the phone to someone.

“Can you go grab a few boxes for me?” He asked with a pleading look, covering the receiver with his other hand. “Apparently there’s some back behind catering that are a part of a giveaway or something. I’ll hold down the fort here if you can go get them.” He added, before gesturing out to the few people still trying to make up their minds outside.

“Yeah, no problem.” She nodded with a smile before ducking out of the tent.

It took a few minutes and chatting to a couple of security guards to work out where exactly catering was, but eventually she found it tucked behind a few of the food vans. As she circled the pop-up tent, she realised that she wasn’t entirely sure what sort of boxes she was looking for. Were they small boxes or big boxes? Should she have brought a trolley? Were they many huge boxes full of heavy hoodies or a couple of small boxes with posters in them? Shit. Who would she get to help bring them back if she couldn’t carry them all? Maybe she’d just have to make a few trips? Suddenly, all of her questions were answered. She rolled her eyes as she saw the curly haired boy sitting on the two boxes that she assumed she was meant to grab, joint in hand and staring idly around the venue. “I really should’ve known that you’d be here.” She chuckled as she walked over to Matty. He glanced up at her in curiosity, then looked down at the boxes he was sitting on.

“Oh, I’m sorry! Are these _your_ boxes?” He asked innocently as he stood up off of them.

“They do say ‘for merch’ on the side.” She pointed out.

“That could mean anything.” He shrugged as she picked one of them up. It was oddly light.

“Are these empty?” She asked as she picked the other up as well. As she flipped open the lid, her suspicions were confirmed. “Did you put these two boxes together?” She narrowed her eyes at him in accusation.

“How strange…” Matty hummed quietly, opting to ignore the [question](https://66.media.tumblr.com/01778e60c97ccce5ace2c395884c0d09/tumblr_pwpx1yxU3A1teew98o1_500.gifv). “While you’re here, d’you fancy a quick drink?” He added casually.

Of course. _Of course_ he had managed to get her out of the merch tent and here to hang out with him. She pulled her phone out with a sigh, quickly verifying what the time was. It was just past five. She had started work at nine that morning. It was probably as good a time as any to take a break. Once it began getting dark there was going to be the usual small rush of people realising that they hadn’t brought enough layers and needed to purchase more, so it only made sense to take a break now rather than later. It was just purely coincidental that she was going to take it with Matty. She flicked her brother a quick text to let him know that she was going to take her break while she was out, and also that the boxes were not for them, before slipping her phone back into her pocket.

“Only if we get food too.” She agreed, laughing a little as she watched the satisfied grin split across his face. “You sort drinks, I’ll sort food.” She added. He gave a sharp nod before looking around for somewhere he could actually get a drink from. A large part of him had expected her to say no and to just go back to work, so he hadn’t really expected to get this far. While he jogged off in search of alcohol, she made her way to the first food van she saw and placed an order; pickiness wasn’t really an option when you were hungry with limited time. And given how many people were already here at the show it was likely that all the food vans would have a decent wait time before she actually got anything to eat. As she waited for the food to be ready, she took a quick look around the festival to see if she could spot where Matty had run off to. He was at a bar across the way, chatting to the female bartender who was running the till. There was clearly a lot of flirting going on. Lots of arm touching and laughing and Matty was just leaning _right_ over that counter to be in her personal space. It had become pretty apparent in the time that she had known him that he was just a generally flirty and charismatic guy. She had seen it a little bit at the shows, but it had been very obvious at the party the other week. Which was fine. That was just him. She could accept that. But it didn’t make it any easier to watch him be like that with other people. Not that she was jealous, being jealous would mean that she specifically wanted that attention directed towards her, which she totally didn’t, it was just- The call for her order thankfully snapped her out of her thoughts before they went down that rabbit hole of justification.

As she turned around with the food, she saw that Matty was walking back with a triumphant look on his face and two bottles in his hands.

“Free drinks!” He cheered as he handed her one of the ciders and kept on walking right past her.

“Where are you going?” She asked with a frown.

“Dressing room.” He shouted back over his shoulder. “It’ll be quieter there and I’ve got some stuff to do.” He explained, cracking open his bottle and taking a swig from it.

“Oh, so _you_ can work, but I can’t?” She laughed as she began following him, trying to balance the food in one hand with her drink in the other.

“You only work _because_ of me.” He answered with a smug look.

“Other bands exist besides yours. You know that, right?” She asked.

“Yeah, but they aren’t as good. My band is the best out there. So, we pretty much have a monopoly on the gig industry. We own you.” What might have started as a serious sentiment on his part quickly devolved into a joke, and as much as he tried to keep a straight face, he couldn’t help but laugh when she scoffed at what he had said.

“You _wish_ you had a monopoly on merch. I don’t think I’d ever get anything done if you were my boss.” She chuckled as she took a sip of her drink. That didn’t sound like such a bad thing… Her words had given him an idea. But he’d have to fire off a few texts tomorrow to see if it had any possibility of working.

They finally reached the backstage area after a couple of wrong turns around all of the tents that looked exactly the same. That was the downside of outdoor festivals, everything was a temporary setup hired from the same company. So, everything was exactly the same style of tent. The two of them sat down, eating their food in silence for a little bit before Matty decided he had better start to get ready for their set. “Which do you prefer,” He said as he held up two separate outfits. “go all out with the suit, or stick to basics with the shirt and ripped jeans?” He was hoping that this question might give him a bit of insight into which look she preferred on him, but the blank look and noncommittal shrug weren’t exactly helpful.

“It’s your show.” She answered before taking another bite of her food truck dinner.

“Yeah, but…” He started, before deciding that explaining himself was going to take too long and probably detract from his aura of confidence. “Never mind.” He said with a sigh, deciding to just stick with the shirt and jeans for the sake of comfort and consistent image.

After quickly changing he came back into the green room to sort out his hair. He had been feeling like he was probably overdue for a haircut. It was at that awkward length where it was not short enough to stay out of his eyes and not long enough to properly sort it out. Gelling it back seemed like the best option for the meantime. As he was messing about with his hair, he caught her staring at him through the mirror. He combed the gel through his hair and looked back at her with an eyebrow raised. “What?” He asked after a moment.

“Why are you gelling it back?” She asked with a frown.

“I just get annoyed by how it gets in my way sometimes.” He answered, shrugging slightly.

“Hmph. Fair enough.” She did not seem happy about this information. He found that far too amusing. 

“You prefer the bed head look?” He asked with a [mischievous smirk spreading](https://66.media.tumblr.com/1f660567ff506a1c0d9cb24a8041c2f0/tumblr_od0ixhf9k91sgl73ao1_r1_500.gifv) across his face. He could work with that information.

“It’s just-”

“No, no, I get it. It’s very close in similarity to the post-sex look so I can see the appeal.” The smirk had spread into a grin at this point as he watched her cheeks redden.

She just shook her head at him, “Why are you like this...”

“Matt, did you end up sorting-” Ross began saying as he waltzed into the room, before looking up from his phone and spotting Y/N/N sitting in there as well. “Oh, hello!” He said with a smile. “What’re you doin’ here?” He asked as he sat next to her on the couch and stole one of her chips.

“Got dragged here by him.” She answered, gesturing towards Matty who was still messing with his hair in the mirror.

He nodded in understanding. “How’s merch going?” He questioned.

“It’s going good! I think we’ve already hit the expected sales total per head, so it’s only up from here.” She said eagerly, proud to finally get to tell someone that they were doing really well today.

“Well, I hope it’s not taking too much of your energy, the boys and I were sort of hoping you’d come out for a drink with us after.” He offered as he nudged her shoulder with his own.

“Which boys were thinking that?” Matty asked instantly as he spun around from the mirror.

“Obviously the ones that aren’t you.” Ross stated. “You wanna come out for a few?” He asked again.

“Yeah! I’d love to.” She beamed. The band had been excellent company the last time that she had the pleasure of hanging out with them and she was keen for the chance to get to know them better. “I’ll be finishing later than you guys, though. Probably a couple of hours later as long as that’s okay?” She questioned hesitantly.

“It shouldn-”

“Of course, it’s fine!” Matty interrupted. The two of them glanced over at him, before continuing to chat between themselves.

Eventually, the other two members of The 1975 found their way to the green room, and it wasn’t long after that before she had to regrettably head back to work. As much as they were fun to be around, she had a job to do. They all agreed to head to a nearby bar after the show and that she would meet them there once she’d finished up her shift. She stood up from her spot on their couch, already halfway out of the room before Matty called her name.

“I’ll walk you back to the merch tent?” He offered, not really waiting for a response before getting up out of his seat and walking out with her. “Are you gonna come watch the show?” He asked offhandedly as he lit up a cigarette.

“I can see the stage from merch pretty well, so I’ll probably just stay there.” She shrugged.

“You’re not gonna come up to watch?” He questioned with a ridiculous pout on his face. 

“Why? So that you can wink at me any time there’s a mildly suggestive lyric?” She shot back with a laugh. He’d been overly flirty all day today, which was saying something since the usual amount was already pretty high.

“I’m only trying to look out for you, love. I just want to make sure that you can have the best possible view when I take my shirt off during the set.” He said casually. She looked over at him, expecting a wink or suggestive expression or something, but he was just acting like he hadn’t said anything at all.

The rest of the festival went by very quickly. There were a few more customers to serve, then it wasn’t long until The 1975 went on. She couldn’t tell from where she was at merch if Matty had been telling the truth or not, but it was probably better that she wasn’t able to confirm that information. Once their set was finished it seemed that people just wanted to head out of the venue and go home. It was a nice relief to not have an after show rush, it meant that they could begin packing up earlier than expected. By the time that she finally got to the bar that they agreed to meet at, it was just after midnight. She had rushed through a couple of aspects of count out, opting to do the rest tomorrow morning so that she had more time with her friends tonight. The band were incredibly easy to spot as she walked in, namely because Matty was currently in the midst of trying to wrestle a phone away from Adam.

“Just give me the phone, Hann!” He shouted, practically climbing over the table to try and get to it.

“Only when you agree to turn the damn thing off.” He argued as he scooted back in his chair to avoid his prying hands.

“Calm down you two.” She laughed as she walked up to their table. Matty instantly stopped what he was doing, looking up at her in surprise before abruptly sitting back into his seat. As he did, Adam threw the phone over to him without saying another word. She felt like she had interrupted something.

“Good to see you. Take a seat.” George smiled, gesturing to the empty space in the booth next to him. “How was work?” He asked in an attempt to break the tension that had apparently settled around the table.

“We did really well.” She answered with a grin. “How was the show?” She asked back.

“It was also really good!” Ross chimed in as he took a sip from his beer.

“The crowd were rowdy as hell.” George agreed with a nod, before giving Matty a knowing look. His face lit up as he remembered something that had happened during their gig.

“I have _the best_ story for you about what happened when we played Give Yourself a Try-” He began, leaning over the table eagerly as he launched into it.

The conversation flowed easily once George had worked his magic and moved everyone away from Matty’s awkwardness. Adam had taken his phone away from him when he wouldn’t stop checking it for the last hour, waiting for messages about when she was going to get to the bar. Apparently Matty had been unable to recover from the pure shock of seeing the person that he was waiting for magically appear at the table. Normally he was pretty good socially, but once he’d had a few drinks and was staring at things through rose coloured glasses, he could be a right mess. George had a feeling that Matty wasn’t going to own up to that, though. So, for his best friend’s sake, he could get everyone to forget that it had happened. The time passed quickly with the five of them having fun, and it was not long at all before glasses were running empty.

“I think I need another drink.” Matty said, motioning that he wanted to make his way out of the booth.

“Don’t stress! I’ll go get us another round.” Y/N/N offered quickly as she stood up, not wanting to bear witness to another round of her _favourite_ game: Watching Matty Flirt with Bartenders.

As she waited at the counter, the reason that she had gotten up ended up following her anyway. He leaned on the bar, fiddling with the coasters sitting on it. “Come here often?” He asked nonchalantly. She didn’t respond at first, unsure if he was joking or legitimately asking. “Name’s Matty. I’ll buy you a drink?” He offered as he held his hand out for a handshake.

“You’re such a twat.” She laughed, shoving him lightly in the shoulder. He grinned in response, making a mental note that she had probably reacted best to his dorky jokes out of everything else that he had attempted today.

“I came up to help you carry the drinks.” He explained as the bartender brought them over. They scooted back into the booth, handing the drinks out and diving back into the conversation.

It was hard not to notice during their discussions that Matty was pretty good at being the loudest opinion at the table and was also very proficient at talking over his friends. It was especially apparent when he was enthusiastic about a topic. She could see that after two decades of being together, the other three men were just used to it at this point in their lives. George especially seemed to receive the majority of it. As the boys chatted about heading back home tomorrow, she noticed Matty’s arm making its way across the back of the booth behind her. She gave him a sceptical look as he did it, but he didn’t look away from his friend’s conversation. A part of her wondered if maybe he had jumped up to help her at the bar so that they’d have to be sitting next to each other when they came back…

Eventually after a few moments he spoke up. “Admit it.” He said in a low voice as he leant in closer to her.

“Admit what?” She asked in confusion, frowning up at him.

“That you’re into me.” He elaborated as he turned to her with a smirk. Ah. She understood why he had been acting different all day now. He was trying to con her into confessing feelings for him. Not that there was anything to confess.

“What? No.” She laughed.

“But you are.” He argued with a cocky expression, sounding far too sure of himself for comfort.

“Am not.” She maintained.

“Cut it out, kids.” George said to them without looking away from Ross. Matty wasn’t about to argue with George after he bailed him out earlier, but he wasn’t done pushing the point either. He’d need to find more time to talk to her. However, he knew that wasn’t likely to happen tonight.

By nearly two in the morning, they collectively decided that they should begin winding up their night. She had started work at nine that morning and the fifteen-hour work day was quickly catching up with her. And the band had a flight to catch the next day. The five of them stood outside the bar, watching as the last few stragglers made their way home. George, Ross and Adam all said their goodbyes, exchanging hugs and saying that they were looking forward to seeing her again at some point. They took a few polite steps away, giving Matty the chance to say bye without them hanging around to give him shit for it.

“You’re welcome to come back to the hotel.” Matty suggested with an eyebrow raised. She let out a sigh, ready to decline the offer but he continued. “For real, though, funny business aside. The hotel is closer to here than your place.” He said, his tone instantly switching from joking to serious.

“It’s okay, I’d rather get a good night’s sleep in my own bed.” She replied. “I have to finish up a few things with the stock tomorrow back at the warehouse, anyway. Thank you, though.” She added with a smile.

“It’s all right.” He nodded, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it. “Was good seeing you, as always. Get home safe.” He said as he pulled her in for a tight hug. He still had that familiar smell of stage sweat clinging to him around his usual combination of weed and charity shop clothes. As soon as he moved back, she was already missing his company. Any day with him always ended up being an exceptional one and she hadn’t realised how much she missed being around him until he was back again. If she was totally honest with herself, a part of her probably _was_ into him. But she was glad that she wouldn’t have to see him for a while and deal with that. Having feelings for someone like him would not be fun to confront. He turned and started walking back to his friends, already writing the text messages in his head that he had to send off tomorrow.


	6. Give it a Rest, I Could Persuade You

It had been about a month since she last saw Matty. He and the band had to fly out quite early the morning after the festival, so there wasn’t really a chance to catch up again once they parted ways at the bar. But that was okay, because he was considerably more talkative this time around than what he had been the last time. It wasn’t quite the same as getting to properly hang out, and she missed seeing the rest of the band as well, but it was still better than nothing and made the distance more tolerable. She found herself holding her phone in her hand, contemplating if she should call Matty or not. Their last proper phone call was a while ago now – roughly a week she thought – and she wanted to tell him about the dumb thing that happened today that she thought he’d appreciate. She knew that it wasn’t too late yet where he currently was, and the show that they had played earlier that evening should’ve finished by now. But she was always wary that he was a busy guy. As she deliberated on this, her phone started buzzing in her hand. For a second she thought maybe he really _did_ have some form of crazy mindreading skills. But it wasn’t Matty, it was her brother.

“Hey! How’s things?” She asked as she answered the call. 

“I…” He sighed through the phone. “I got an email about you.” Her brother started saying, his tone sounding unsure.

“What sort of email?” She asked with a frown, sitting up properly on the couch. This conversation was clearly important.

Before her brain had a chance to jump to the worst conclusion, he continued, “A job offer. For you. To tour internationally with a band doing merch.” He answered.

There were a few moments of silence on the line as she processed this information. “Shit, _what_?” She asked incredulously.

“Some guy called No Rome?” It was more of a question than a statement, he clearly didn’t know who that artist was. “Their label emailed me.” He continued, but she had sort of tuned out of what he was saying. She had heard that name before but couldn’t remember where… “They said that they had received high recommendations about you or something.”

“That’s so crazy, I don’t even-” The metaphorical lightbulb went off as she remembered that band name. “Wait...” That was the regular support act for The 1975. The gears started turning at this point. “Did they say who the recommendation came from?” She questioned.

“No. Why?”

“I’ll call you back.” She replied instantly, knowing more than likely who had caused this email to be sent.

She hung up the phone before promptly starting another call. “Matty,” She began as soon as he picked up, skipping the pleasantries.

“Yes?” He asked, an innocent tone to his voice.

“What is this job offer thing that you’ve done?” She accused.

“What job offer thing?” He asked back.

“I know it was you.” She stated, not wanting to beat around the bush with something like this. This was a big deal if it was true.

“Did you get offered something interesting?” He continued. The amusement was starting to seep into his voice at this point.

“Just fucking tell me.” She said with a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose.

He hummed thoughtfully, waiting a moment before responding, “Maybe you should just accept the job and I can tell you next week in person.” Well, at least that confirmed that he knew about it.

“You really expect me to just drop everything I have here and come gallivant around on tour with you?” She questioned.

“Kind of.” He answered bluntly.

Okay. So, it was a real job offer then. A real job offer that had probably been suggested by Matty, which did lower the legitimacy of it a little bit. But it was still a job offer that wanted to pay for her to travel internationally. That was still a lot of information to handle. The first question that floated to the top was definitely the elephant in the room, “Why on _earth_ did you get them to ask me to do No Rome’s merch? You’re fucking on tour together. It’ll be 1975 merch for the majority.” She pointed out.

“No, you only have to do No Rome.” He replied.

“But that…” That didn’t make any sense whatsoever. “Why isn’t that just included in whoever does _your_ merch?” She asked in confusion.

“I thought he deserved his own merch person.” He answered.

“But they’re going to be sold from the same place? How am I meant to _only_ serve people who want No Rome stuff?” This job offer was so far only raising more questions than solutions.

“Oh no, no, no. You don’t have to sell to anyone.” He laughed like it was entirely too obvious. “You just have to do the counts and setup.”

That made even less sense. Just the setup? That was like telling someone to drive to work, set their desk up, turn their computer on, log in and then just go home to let someone else do all the work on your account with all your settings and preferences. They wouldn’t know where anything was or what your methods were. There was no point in preparing everything if you weren’t the one dealing with it. “Matty… That’s not how working merch _works_.” She tried to explain.

“That’s how _this_ job works.” He corrected. “You essentially do prep work.”

“And then what?” She asked.

“And then you can watch the shows and hang out.” He answered.

Right. That’s what this was about. The job offer was clearly just a front so that he could socialise with her without her work getting in the way. “Are you just shitty that we didn’t get to hangout all day during the festival?” She asked with a chuckle.

“No.” He shot back instantly.

“Liar!” She retaliated loudly with a laugh.

“Fuckin’ take the job, love.” He sighed tiredly.

“And if I don’t want to?” She challenged.

She was just met with his loud laugh in response. “You want to.” The level of certainty in his voice, that cocky tone. _Fuck_. She hated to admit that simple things he did like that were enough to pull a reaction out of her. He was attractive when he was confident. At that moment, she was thankful that he couldn’t see her because he would no doubt make it much worse in person. But he was right - it was a crazy good opportunity. It added a ridiculously good reference to her resume, and she was going to get paid good money to hang out with her friends. She would be insane to say no. But she was also well aware that being in close capacity to Matthew Healy for so long was probably going to be difficult. She weighed up the pros and cons briefly in her head as she tried to come to a decision.

“Fine.” She agreed eventually. “Send me the details.”

A contract was sent to her within a matter of minutes. It outlined that she was going to be on tour with them for a month and a half and would fly out late next week. A free holiday spent in good company? It was an offer too good to be true, really. And she was going to get paid to do it! Just over a week wasn’t much time to get everything sorted to be away from home for six weeks, but it would have to suffice. Before her flight departed, they had sent her the details of a taxi company that would take her to the lot that the tour buses were waiting in. They also sent through which bus number plate to meet them at with the code to get into it to dump her luggage. The only issue was, it was a huge lot. There were at least fifty odd tour buses in this place. It took a good deal of searching to work out which bus was the one that she was meant to go to, and lugging her suitcase through the lot was starting to get tiring. When she finally spotted the plate that she was after it was like the lagoon in the middle of a desert; she was worried that it might just be a mirage. But she started walking over to the No Rome tour bus, only to feel a hand land on her shoulder. She turned, half anticipating to see a security guard asking her why she’d been wandering around for the last half hour, only to see Matty standing behind her.

“Oh, hey.” She smiled up at him, not having expected to see him so soon after getting here.

“I have some unfortunate news,” He said with a crestfallen expression as he began steering her away from the bus. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “Rome’s tour bus is a fairly small bus, and was actually already fully booked by the time you were confirmed to come with us.” He admitted.

“Oh.” She said with a frown.

“So, you have to stay in the other bus.” He continued. She could see the stupid smile on his face that [he was trying to hide](https://66.media.tumblr.com/6f914fea6e0362a934298bb940881eb4/tumblr_pgg0v4Zg1s1t03tcvo1_400.gifv).

“ _Oh_.” She repeated with an eyeroll, suddenly realising where he was going with this. “And I suppose that everyone else on that bus has already picked out bunks?” She asked with a deep sigh.

“Yes.” He answered.

“And the only one that’s left free is _conveniently_ right next to yours?” She questioned.

He let out an exaggerated gasp, “How could you possibly know such confidential information?”

“Call it a hunch.” She muttered under her breath.

The tour bus that he led her to was indeed considerably bigger than the one she had been told to go to originally. He punched some code into the keypad next to the door before holding it open and ushering her inside. The bus was empty save for all the suitcases and bags strewn across it. It reminded her of a fancy caravan; everything was sleek, black and designed to save space. It seemed to have a few fancy add ons, namely the impressive coffee making setup in the kitchen, which Matty assured her George couldn’t leave home without. As she was taking in the space around her, he stepped behind and walked through the kitchen to the bunks in the middle of the bus. He called her over, snapping her back to reality as she walked across to where he was standing. They were a lot more spacious than she expected them to be. All of the bunks except for two had bags already tucked away in them, a few had the curtains pulled shut. She recognised Matty’s backpack sitting in the one on the bottom right hand side. She looked down at the bunk next to his with disdain. This was only going to end badly.

“You don’t _have_ to take that one.” He began. She looked back at him, urging him to continue with what the other option possibly was. “You’re welcome to be on top of me.” He offered. He tapped his fingers against the empty bunk above his as he said it, but the look in his eyes was definitely getting at a different angle.

“I’ll take this one.” She answered quickly, turning away from him and gesturing to the bottom bunk next to his.

“I assure you that I don’t mind.” He added with a suggestive smirk.

“I know you don’t. That’s the problem.” She huffed as she put her bag into the bunk.

“Or we could switch and I could be on top-”

“Stop.” She interrupted as she spun to glare at him. Had he always been standing that close behind her? It suddenly seemed far too close. “Stop talking.” He couldn’t help but grin at the flustered look on her face.

He left her to her own devices after that, figuring that he would wait in the front lounge while she got her bearings. At this point in his career, he’d spent a good portion of his life in tour buses. But he remembered having to find his way around them at the start; all of the tiny compartments took a while to figure out. Also, he’d probably overwhelmed her enough considering that she _had_ just stepped off of a plane all of two hours ago. It wasn’t long before the rest of the band and the small amount of crew that were on their bus started filing in. Introductions were exchanged, luggage was stowed under the vehicle, a few snacks to get them through until the next stop were stored, and then their convoy were on the way to show number one. He hadn’t lied when he mentioned that Rome had a smaller bus. His bus only slept six, whereas The 1975 had two buses of twelve. It did make more sense for her to stay on one of the bigger ones, he just made sure to have a say in which of the two bigger ones she was placed on. The bus that they were currently on mostly housed the performing crew, and the extended crew behind the scenes stayed on the second bus. Typically, the latter had considerably earlier start and finish times for their working day than the former did, so it made sense to split the two to avoid people running on next to no sleep. These three buses in combination with the few trucks that were used to cart their stage, lighting rigs and merch across the country for the whole tour resulted in a fairly impressive operation. It was pretty astounding for Y/N/N to think that she was a part of it.

After the festival had ended, Matty had spent a good deal of time sending texts, writing emails and having meetings in an effort to try and coordinate what ended up being a considerably more extensive plan than what he had expected. Her comment about how she’d ‘never get anything done’ if he was her boss set the idea into motion that maybe if she had a role within Dirty Hit, he’d be able to see her more often. If he saw her more often, there was a pretty decent chance that he’d be able to get her to fess up to being into him. Because try as he might to just ‘let it go’ as George had suggested, he couldn’t drop it when he knew full well that she was. He hadn’t thought that arranging someone else to come on tour was really going to be _that_ difficult, but apparently it was. It was less about money and more about the logistics of having another person to account into every single plan for a six-week schedule. However, now that she was actually here, all of his efforts felt worth it. Regardless of the bet with himself, regardless of the needier part of him wanting her around as an emotional crutch for when things got hard, it was just nice to have an extra friend around to bounce off of within the confines of the tour bus. It felt comforting to have another presence about to keep him grounded, George had probably done enough of that over the past few years to last him a lifetime. But being grounded and rational wasn’t the way to start off a tour. The way to start off a tour was with _shots_.

“Tequila? Really?” Adam groaned as the shot glass was forced into his hand by the eager singer.

“What’s wrong with tequila, Hann?” Matty asked with a frown as he continued pouring and handing them out.

“Nothing is wrong with the tequila itself, but _you_ drinking tequila is a different story.” He elaborated. “And we’re only on night one of forty-six. You really wanna set the bar so soon?” Ross gave a nod of agreement as Adam spoke, and it was clear that George was hesitant as well.

“Look lads, we have someone on this tour who has never experienced the thrills of touring with us before.” As he spoke, he happened to be pouring the shot of the exact person he was referring to and he smiled fondly at her as he passed it across. She found herself suddenly feeling like the fifth wheel as he threw her under the bus like that. “We need to put in at least a _little_ bit of effort, yeah?” He spun back to the group; his own tequila shot in hand. “To a brilliant tour.” He grinned, holding his shot glass up in toast. The boys all shouted a few words of agreement as the five of them downed their shots. But the burn of that tequila was only the beginning. As Adam had predicted, what started as one shot quickly turned to two, which turned to more, which turned to drinking games, which turned to everyone drunkenly stumbling into bed at two in the morning after a solid eight hours of drinking. To the bus driver’s dismay at his suddenly rowdy passengers, the rest of the crew had also rapidly gotten involved and suffered much the same fate. Y/N/N had quickly discovered when their celebrations finally wrapped up that getting into a tiny bunk on the floor while inebriated wasn’t as easy as it would’ve seemed. But she was very grateful that her bunk was at least level with the ground, as opposed to George who promptly rolled out of his and crashed against the hard surface when he tried to reposition himself in his bed.

A part of her understood why Matty had insisted on drinks on the first night. Once everyone was drunk, any awkwardness was quickly forgotten about. It was a lot easier to bond with people when you were too drunk to be self-conscious. Now that everyone on the bus had a friendship base to go off of, a funny story to reminisce over, there was no reason for anyone to be pushed to the wayside for the sake of cliques or not having anything to talk about. But as expected, Matty had to take it a step too far and was definitely the most hungover out of everyone the next morning. The tour bus had arrived at their first stop at about six that morning. Everyone else on the vehicle had been up at a fairly decent hour, the band a little bit later than the rest of the crew as they weren’t needed until later in the day. But not Matty. It was after ten by the time someone figured that they should do something about it.

“You should go check on him.” Ross urged, looking across the small kitchen table at Y/N/N.

“Why me?” She frowned.

“Because I’m sure he’d prefer to be woken up by you than us.” He explained, a small chuckle escaping despite his best attempts to hold in.

“The last time I had to wake him up for a show when he was hungover, I threw a glass of ice water on him.” George said. “But to be fair, the last time he woke _me_ up, he did it with a fucking megaphone and I smacked my head into the bunk above mine…” He scowled at the memory, rubbing his forehead as he reminisced about the pain. “I’ll go get the ice cubes.” He offered as he motioned to stand up, suddenly motivated that only one glass of freezing cold water wasn’t enough payback for that event.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll get him.” She sighed, motioning for George to sit back down.

“You’re too nice to him.” Adam said, shaking his head with a small smile.

“Yeah, probably.” She agreed with a laugh as she stood up.

She made her way down the bus towards the bunks, slowly opening the sliding door that connected them to the kitchen to try and prevent any excess noise making its way through. As she did, the other boys decided that they’d make themselves sparse, just in case. The three of them were well aware of Matty’s intentions about bringing her on tour, and they had seen his track record with girls when he put his mind to it. As much as what they knew of Y/N/N would lead them to believe that she was pretty stubborn, they didn’t want to stick around to hear the results if Matty’s plan succeeded. Also, it was as good an excuse as any to start their day. “You alive in there, Matty?” She asked quietly, knocking softly on the side of his bunk above where his head would’ve been with her shoe. “You need to function at some point today.” The curtain slowly pulled open, revealing what appeared to be a very tired Matty. The five o’clock shadow he had going on highlighted the small amount of stubble that he had neglected to shave the day prior, and the bags under his eyes made him look like he’d just suffered an entirely sleepless night. He winced at the sudden amount of light flooding into his bunk, rolling over onto his back.

“I need a coffee.” He groaned, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes to try and dull how bright the artificial lighting was on the bus.

“I told you that you’d regret playing that drinking game.” She sighed. “Do you need me to go make you one?” She added with a laugh, staring down at the hungover man in front of her with amusement as he rolled his way onto the floor between their bunks.

“No, not that instant shit that we have here.” He huffed, slowly pulling himself to his feet. He pulled a hand through his unruly hair, trying to sort out how messy it had become in his restless sleep. “I need a real coffee. And George hates it when I use his contraption without askin'.” He continued as he started grabbing a few things out of his bag, throwing a jacket on over the top of the clothes that he had passed out in last night and slipping some shoes on. “C’mon.” He mumbled as he started walking towards the door.

He let out a grunt of dissatisfaction as he stepped outside into the morning sunshine. Even through his sunglasses it was still far too harsh and made his head pound ten times worse. The jetlag probably wasn’t helping his state of mind, either. But he knew from their last tour here that there was a café nearby that would give him a decent coffee. Once he got that into his system, it would start to get him back on the road to recovery before he had to play tonight. He looked behind him briefly to verify that she was following before starting down the street in the vague direction that he recalled his source of caffeine being in. She trailed behind him, mostly taking in the scenery around her rather than really focusing on anything else. Being in new locations always gave her such a feeling of unending potential. There was so much to discover and explore, so many nooks and crannies that you’d never find if you didn’t go hunting for them. The two of them walked to the café mostly in silence, except for the few ‘ow’s that escaped from the singer at the odd exceptionally loud noise that they passed.

Matty chose to sit down outside at the table closest to the café entrance, eager to have a smoke, get some sustenance as quick as possible, and then get back in time for a shower. Maybe a nap too if he was lucky. A server quickly made their way over to them, menus in hand and a friendly customer service smile on their face. He declined the menu, waving his hand dismissively as the server offered it out to him. “Just a black coffee, thanks.” He said with a nod. “Oh, and some toast. Dry toast.” He added as an afterthought. Experience had taught him that the sooner he could stomach food, the quicker he’d be out of this hangover. They seemed a bit taken aback by his abruptness, but took note of his request and her order of a cup of tea and toast anyway. Given the simplicity of their meal, it took all of a few minutes before it was placed in front of them. Matty took an eager sip of the hot beverage, feeling a much more comforting burn in his throat than the ones he had been feeling last night.

As they ate their meal, he found himself watching her carefully as he absentmindedly chewed at the dry carbohydrates that he knew he needed. It had been a while since he’d had a hungover breakfast with anyone other than the band. Partially because they were who he was around for 90% of his time, but also in part because he wasn’t comfortable enough around anyone else in his life to still want to hang out with them the morning after drinking. In fact, it had been a while since he’d properly felt comfortable around _anyone_ except the band. And yet here he was. Again. He hadn’t really expected a few offhand flirty comments to turn into a friendship that he enjoyed so much. “It’s nice havin’ you out here.” He said casually around a mouthful of toast. The genuine tone in his voice set off the butterflies in her stomach for a brief moment. She looked back at him, feeling the need to verify if this was a joke or leading to a sleazy remark, but he seemed entirely serious.

“It’s weird being out here. Feels like stepping into a different world.” She replied honestly.

He nodded in agreement, “You’ll get used to it pretty quick.” He said as he took a sip of his coffee. The drink was slowly starting to take effect. “At least I hope so. I’d hate to have dragged you along only for you to have a shitty time.” He added with a laugh.

“I couldn’t have a shitty time.” She said, shaking her head slightly. He raised an eyebrow in question. “I came out here to hang out with four guys who I consider friends, and I get to do that every day.” She shrugged. He couldn’t help but grin at that.

“Good to know.”

They finished up their meal, and once Matty had decided that the caffeine had finally put him in a good enough mindset, he lit up a cigarette and suggested they head off. “The day is before us. We have endless possibilities.” He said as he gestured broadly at the city around them.

“No, we don’t. You have a show to sort out, _and_ you need to show me what I’m meant to be doing with this merch, given you were so insistent that I take this job.” She pointed out.

He let out a long sigh, nodding slightly in agreement. “I should probably introduce you to Rome first so that you know whose merch you’re setting up.” He conceded, starting to walk back in the direction of the tour buses. She started following him, mulling over what he had said. Eventually she realised why he’d want to introduce her to Rome before showing her the actual job she was out here to do.

“You just wanna stall so you don’t have to start work.” She accused.

“Me? Avoid working?” He gasped. “ _Never_.” He added sarcastically as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side. “Come on, now.”

He seemed to have entirely too much enthusiasm for someone who had been incredibly hungover not more than an hour ago, pointing out every building he recognised on their walk back to the tour bus. It was abundantly clear with how expressive he was that he was legitimately interested in teaching her about these things. She had to admit that it was nice seeing him passionate about things, even little things like the fact that he was able to kind of show her around a city he’d been in once or twice before. When they reached the bus, he held the door open and gestured for her to step in. On the inside, Rome’s bus did appear to be pretty much exactly the same as the other two buses that everyone else was in; it just simply had six less beds which made it considerably shorter than the others. As Matty stepped in behind her, he spotted Rome sitting in the open lounge at the back of the bus. He stepped around her, taking a few quick paces to close the distance and leaving her to follow.

“This right here is my good buddy Rome.” He said with a broad grin, his volume increasing with each word he spoke as he all but ran over and tackled the blue-haired boy into a hug. Matty hadn’t left very much time for Rome to react, pretty much only looking up from his phone in time to defend himself at the last second. It was reassuring to see that he was overly enthusiastic with his affection for all of his friends, not just her. The boy laughed loudly as Matty tormented him for a few moments before he was finally able to free himself, stand up to take a few steps towards her.

“Nice to finally meet you.” He smiled as he held his hand out to her. “I was a little surprised to hear that there was gonna be someone else doing my merch this tour.” He added as she shook it and returned his smile.

“That would make two of us.” She agreed with a light laugh, glancing at Matty standing behind him.

“I just figured that you finally deserved some of your own crew instead of stealin’ mine all the time.” Matty offered with a shrug, [wrapping an arm around Rome’s shoulders](https://66.media.tumblr.com/5a9ede4358a61fc185784a426a6a8d98/tumblr_ppxatgbkYK1t3r7pq_400.jpg). She noticed that Rome made Matty seem a lot taller than he actually was as they stood next to each other like this. It was a stark contrast to seeing him with his own band members who practically dwarfed him.

“So, should we sit down, maybe have a joint?” Matty offered in an attempt to play gracious host, gesturing back towards the lounge.

“Can’t. Meant to be working.” She reminded him. He rolled his eyes at her excuse.

“Fine, get to know each other a bit, then?” He rephrased.

“Adam was telling me you guys had soundcheck at twe-” Rome started saying, until Matty just spoke over him.

“Let’s sit down. How’ve you been, man?” He interrupted, trying to shut Rome up and pull him towards the couch.

“If that’s true then you only have fifteen minutes to get inside.” She reminded him. “ _And_ you still have to show me where my stuff is.” Matty groaned loudly at this, checking his phone to confirm that they were both telling the truth about the time. George _had_ mentioned something last night about a midday soundcheck once the stage was set up so that the lighting guys could continue without being interrupted. He supposed it was sensible to be on time for that.

“Fine. Let’s go.” He huffed, starting to head towards the door. “Not much of an introduction, though.” He added under his breath. After shouting a quick goodbye to Rome over his shoulder, they headed back out of the bus and inside the venue. She assumed that Matty must’ve known where he was going because he beelined through the hallways like a man on a mission. This arena was a bit bigger than the one that she had seen them in the first time and she tried to retain the corners they were taking in her head so that she didn’t get turned around again. Eventually they stopped at a pallet towards the back of the building absolutely loaded with boxes.

“This-” He started as he scanned through the pallet of stock, eventually pulling a box down from the very top, “is yours.” He held out the box. “And you set it up in that van that we passed near the front entrance.” He added.

She looked at him, then at the box. Was he done..? Maybe they were waiting on extra boxes? Or there was more to grab somewhere else? Surely this couldn’t be it? “A box? _One_ box?” She asked in confusion. As she looked back to him for clarification, he seemed unphased by this information. “For the whole tour?” She continued.

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“This is really it?” She asked incredulously as she took it.

“Yep.” He confirmed, still nodding.

“Oh my god, Matty. I’m going to die of boredom being out here with only this.” She groaned, opening the box to see if it was even full. Knowing him it was probably empty, anyway. Maybe she should take back her comment about not being able to have a terrible time while she was out here.

“Payback for the festival.” He chuckled as she was able to verify that it was, indeed, full of shirts. Thank god.

“Don’t you fucking start.” She said with a glare, turning to point at him. “You chose to do that.” She reminded him.

“And _you_ chose to do this.” He quipped with a smirk. “Unless you had some ulterior motive?” He asked nonchalantly. She knew full well what he was trying to get at, but it wasn’t going to work in this instance.

“Seeing my friends was, in fact, the primary motive.” She answered with a smug look.

“Mmm… sure.” He replied in a disbelieving tone. “I have to go soundcheck, I’ll catch up with you in a bit.” He said, turning on his heel and walking back in the direction that they had come from.

She trusted Matty - well, _mostly_ trusted Matty - but she still read the labels on every box on that pallet _just_ in case there was secretly more stock hidden somewhere. Once she had finally resigned herself to her fate of having next to no work to do at every show, she carried her one, single box back to the empty merch stand. It took her all of twenty minutes to set up merch for Rome. There were only sixty shirts in total to count in, and folding them was nothing compared to the amount of stock she had been forced to fold at other events. Rome had ducked in to the van once she was done to chat and keep her company, explaining a bit of the meaning behind the shirt design he had chosen and telling her about how he had met Matty. He seemed to be a really nice kid; she could see why Matty got along with him so well. They carried on chatting in the merch van until Ross came to find them and show them to the backstage waiting area so that the rest of the merch crew could set up. Everyone else had already made their way over there so that they could kill the time until it was finally time to play. Matty seemed to intentionally take his time getting ready for the show, asking her opinion on just about every little change that he made. Despite the confident bravado, he did seem to have a good deal of nerves bubbling away under the surface. He knew that he was setting the bar for what the whole tour would have in store. Kids would spread photos online of what they’d seen, what he’d done, what the setlist was. First impressions mattered. But as expected, the show was an astounding start to the six weeks that lay ahead. The band came off the stage buzzing with excitement and adrenaline, ready to tackle everything else that was thrown their way.

The next week was pretty much spent establishing a rough routine for the rest of the tour. It only took playing the one show for the band to get a feel for it again, and once the rest of the crew had set up and pulled down a couple of shows, everyone was back in the groove of what to expect. The band were also starting to get readjusted to doing interviews and social media releases while on the road. It was a gruelling schedule at times trying to fit it all in to one day and still somehow manage to get enough sleep for the next, but not one they were strangers to. However, what Y/N/N was quickly finding out in her daily routine, was that there was absolutely _no_ personal space on a tour bus. She had been under the impression that bands generally took a few days here and there to have breaks between shows, but not this band. Nope. The thing about The 1975 was that they just did. not. stop. If this band wasn’t about to play a show, they were on the road to the next one. So, if they weren’t in a venue organising the day ahead, or pit stopped somewhere for an interview or similar, they were in the tour bus. They had a good mentality of everyone just being able to chill out and do their own thing when on the bus, which mostly consisted of trying to talk to people back at home or watching a movie wherever you could find space. But that many people crammed into such a tiny area who all shared conflicting schedules meant that you rapidly learned things about your roommates that you didn’t think you’d ever know. It hadn’t crossed her mind that she would have to quickly learn the bathroom habits of everyone else on this vehicle if she ever had a hope in hell of using it herself. On the plus side, it did mean that you also _had_ to be comfortable in each other’s space for the sake of your own sanity.

As a result of needing people to vent to about this lack of space, she had found herself dragged headfirst into the chaos and hilarity that was Matty’s close friend circle. Having their stable company and friendship made dealing with the little issues about living on a tour bus a lot easier. Someone eating the last of the cereal was a lot less annoying when she could turn and laugh with Ross about it. She was finding out the more she got to know them that George was definitely the sensible one of the group who kept everyone else - namely Matty - in line, Ross was proving himself to be the funniest of the four of them - when Matty wasn’t around to try and one-up him - and Adam was a lot more reserved in bigger groups – especially when Matty was in them and just spoke over everyone else (there seemed to be a common theme appearing about how it was easier to get to know Matty’s friends without Matty present) - but more than happy to chat one on one when you got him onto a topic of mutual interest. And where she had already been fairly comfortable around the egocentric frontman, she was now finding that he was almost essential to her daily survival. From their in-jokes about dumb things, to having someone to talk to who knew her a slight bit better than everyone else, to just being able to have him around to watch TV shows with; the longer she spent trapped in the tour bus with him, the harder it was getting for her to be able to deny being into him. But there was no point in telling him any of this, because admitting her feelings wasn’t going to get her anywhere. It would just give him the satisfaction that he’d won and she’d be putting herself on the line with no reciprocation. However, Matty was also finding their time together to be having an overwhelmingly positive effect. It was incredibly convenient for him to have someone around who kept him in such a good mood all the time _and_ who provided such good company. He hadn’t felt this happy in quite a while.

One afternoon on the bus she was trying to find something to occupy her time, deciding that maybe watching a movie would fill the void until they arrived at the next venue and she could get out and explore a bit. She knocked on the closed door of the back lounge, slowly pulling it open after she didn’t receive a reply. Upon peeking her head around the door, she was met with the curly haired Matty sitting on his laptop, a single headphone sitting in one of his ears and an open notebook on the table next to him. He didn’t look up as she stepped in, and it took her a moment to realise what he was doing. “Oh my god, are you _working_?” She asked in surprise.

“I do that sometimes.” He mumbled, not tearing his eyes away from his laptop.

“I have to admit, I was starting to think that you didn’t.” She laughed as she shuffled around the couch to see what he was doing. He was clearly fiddling with audio tracks in an editing program, but her knowledge beyond that was pretty limited. The notebook next to him seemed to be full of half-formed ideas that didn’t offer much context. She watched him in silence for a few moments before he decided to explain what he was doing.

“I’m trying to edit the bridge of this song and get it to sound how we want in our heads. George had a go at it this morning but couldn’t quite get the right sound, he asked if I could take a look at it.” He clarified. She nodded in understanding.

“It’s nice seeing you do something productive instead of just hindering the work of everyone else around you.” She teased, nudging him slightly with her elbow.

He flashed her a sarcastic look. “You know that I’ve spent the better part of two decades working to get this band where it is, yeah?” He asked bitterly, the sour mood he was in from not being able to sort this song out seeping into his tone.

“So I’ve heard. But most of the time you act like the cliché rock star that you tell everyone you’re not.” She shot back with a challenging look.

He opened his mouth to argue with her point, before realising that from her perspective, that _was_ pretty much all that he did. She hadn’t had the chance to see him in the studio, in the label offices planning things out with Jamie, doing a serious interview, or do anything that was work related really other than perform and show off. He imagined that must come across as pretty arrogant of him to claim he got the band to where it is when he acted like he’d been at this point for all of his life. “How do I explain this…” He hummed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back into the couch to think of the right words to say. “I don’t often get the chance to fuck about anymore. I used to a lot when I was younger. I fucked around and partied enough when I was younger for all of us guys combined, really.” He gave a short laugh, “But as we got bigger, I had to get my act together. More people were watching us, social media was a very prevalent thing in regards to marketing a band and our image, I had to knock it off for the sake of the band as a whole. Even just how much time I was wasting on it started to affect how much effort I could put into where we were going, and I didn’t want that. But people don’t change until it’s too hard not to. I was sort of required to shift into a more serious place in my life, when… y’know, it all got drawn out into the spotlight. But I miss it. I miss the freedom that came with getting to fuck about all the time.” He explained, glancing across at her to verify if she was understanding him correctly.

“So… you fuck around now because you haven’t for ages?” She asked, not really following where he was going with this.

“No, I…” He let out a sigh, trying to make his thoughts more eloquent. “It’s nice not having to be on my best behaviour around you, is what I’m getting at. It’s just a breath of fresh air amongst constant press and being recorded.” He simplified. “And the band doesn’t let me get away with as much as you do. _That_ ’s why you don’t see me serious very often.” Ah. She got what he meant now. “But, for the next six weeks you’re stuck living with me.” He chuckled. “Which means you’ll get to see all sides of me, not just the ones that I want you to.” Matty seemed to have a good knack for making jokes out of comments that were probably more serious than he thought they were. He looked down at her once he was satisfied that she was following along with his reasoning, only now realising that she was wearing his hoodie that he had given her the day after they’d met. A [grin slowly spread ](https://66.media.tumblr.com/2f72b62212372aaf83dcd6a0f011d0f3/tumblr_n5f71sPrCz1s2dhqro1_500.gif)across his face at this. “Nice hoodie.” He said with a small nod of approval. She had to look down to remind herself of what he was referring to, before meeting his gaze again with a slight blush dusting her cheeks. “It looks good on you.” He added, keeping the ‘better than it did on me’ part of that sentence to himself.

“Thanks.” She mumbled, unsure of what else to say to the compliment.

He went back to working after that, still trying to shuffle around new samples into the audio file to get the sound perfect. She figured that it would be pretty rude of her to put a movie on while he was working, so she decided to just watch him instead. It became considerably easier to follow along with what he was doing when he unplugged the headphones and allowed the laptop speakers to play aloud what he was working on. The track sounded like a less bass-y version of Depth from the small snippets she was hearing. It was interesting seeing his creative process and watching the looks that crossed his face as he tried to get the thoughts out of his head and into the song. As they got closer and closer to the next venue, Matty was beginning to take note of just how long she had actually been watching him work. All he was doing was messing with files in a program, surely there was no way in hell a girl would watch him do that for over an hour if she wasn’t interested in him. The fact that she refused to tell him just ate away at his mind.

He slammed shut the laptop suddenly, forcing her attention to him and away from the screen. “You should just tell me.” He said.

“Tell you what?” She asked in confusion, but the look he threw back at her in response made it click.

“You’ve fuckin’ been watching me all afternoon.” He laughed loudly as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him, “Just admit it.” He added lowly.

“In your dreams.” She scoffed.

“Every night, love.” He shot back with a smirk.

As more time progressed on the tour, Matty could feel himself edging ever so slightly closer to getting her to crack. His plan to establish what the right buttons were to encourage a reaction was working well. He was already well aware that she enjoyed seeing him play guitar. During soundchecks he had seen the way that she watched his fingers move across the frets and how she got distracted by it, and she was always pretty enthralled whenever he was on stage. So, that was one item off the list that he could play to his advantage. The other week she had told him that she liked his hair when it was messy, that was another. He was pretty confident that she liked the physical attention because she had stopped pushing him away now and tended to sit next to him before she sat next to anyone else. She was only ever becoming more receptive to the comments and actions that he was trying to use to fish for what worked and what didn’t. But she was still so damn stubborn about it. The two of them were both getting more resistant the more the other pushed. He refused to let up until she admitted the truth, and she refused to say it to him purely on principle at this point. If she caved now, he’d lord it over her for the remaining four weeks of the tour. But this constant game that they were at was starting to grate on the rest of the band, mainly George. He was beginning to find that this girl’s company was actually very enjoyable and he didn’t want to see Matty go and fuck it all up when he finally won. He also didn’t want to find himself caught in the middle trying to console both parties of a messy situation while trapped on a tour bus with the both of them. But at this point, he knew that Matty of all people should know better. He figured that maybe he should take the time to remind his best friend that there was a time and a place for everything, and that maybe on a tour bus wasn’t the time for _this_.

On a fairly dismal afternoon, Matty had found himself [sulking at the kitchen table](https://scontent.fper5-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/122900878_10218397761079542_5558561856299898543_n.jpg?_nc_cat=101&ccb=2&_nc_sid=0debeb&_nc_ohc=4ITqn5ievvkAX_dCYT-&_nc_oc=AQmFe6-NaQu278gRw3mx5WhbxOr-57-3YJNni-U_-_9hf4AQPiDPpawbw8FHWI_XQ-8&_nc_ht=scontent.fper5-1.fna&oh=84f6aebfc802716d1cb0956eabde4c2f&oe=5FBC3EEB) for the last half an hour or so. He had opened one of his social media apps to check on how things were doing at home, only to find a picture of his ex kissing some other guy plastered across the front of it. It had been about six months since she’d left him, but seeing her move on didn’t sting any less. It still felt like a blow to his self-esteem that she’d move on before he had. He was knocked out of his daze of staring at his phone in discontent when the bus door suddenly flung open and a very determined George stormed inside. 

“What’s your plan with all this?” George asked bluntly as he sat down across from him at the table.

Matty stared across at his best friend blankly, trying to catch up to whatever train of thought George had caught that he’d apparently missed the call for. “What do you mean?” He asked, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“What happens if she turns around and says that she’s into you?” He questioned.

“ _When_.” He specified with a pointed look.

“What _ever_ , man.” The drummer huffed in annoyance. “What happens after you’ve conned this girl into falling for you?” He rephrased.

Matty wasn’t overly fond with the choice of words that George had used. _Conned_? That wasn’t what he was doing. He was just having a bit of fun, wasn’t he? But what _did_ happen when she finally told him..? He hadn’t really thought that far ahead, he was too focused on accomplishing step one to work out what step two was. “Matty.” George called, clicking his fingers in front of the singer’s face to drag his attention back to reality. “All I’m saying is, don’t fuck her over, yeah? She deserves better than that.”

“Oh, I…” He scratched at the back of his neck nervously, suddenly feeling like a kid being told off by his parents. “Well, I wasn’t intending on it.” He mumbled.

“Good intentions only go so far,” He clapped a hand down on Matty’s shoulder. “and I’ve seen your track record. Be careful.” He warned as he stood up from the table and started heading back towards the door of the bus. “Oh, and,” He spun back around, pointing across the bus at his friend with a serious expression. “keep it to a minimum when the rest of us are around, wouldn’t you?”


	7. At Your Best, You're Intermediately Versed in Your Own Feelings

Despite George’s best attempt at reining his friend into line, Matty’s flirting only got more blatantly obvious as time went on. As did his disregard for anyone else in the room. And what was even _worse_ was that she wasn’t even stopping him from doing it anymore. It was slightly more tolerable when she at least used to give him shit for it or tell him off, but now she just rolled with it. The longer they were near each other, the more his antics felt like routine and she just became accustomed to it. As more time passed on the tour, the two of them became practically attached at the hip. The way that she saw it was: she didn’t really have anywhere else better to be when the four people she wanted to hang out with were almost always all in the same spot, so why not hang around Matty? And if he was going to try so hard to get her to confess when she was fairly confident in her resolve on the matter, why not let him? The attention was nice.

But now that - after just over two weeks - she was in a regular routine with touring life, she realised that she was finding the homesickness aspect of it quite difficult. It was kind of hard to process that whenever she had downtime, was when everyone else she knew (that wasn’t already on this vehicle) was asleep. Being unable to talk to people when she had breaks made it hard to not feel a bit isolated. The time difference between home and where they were currently waiting for the show to start probably meant that everyone back at home would still be asleep. So, there wasn’t any point in trying to get in touch with someone to ease this feeling that she was currently wallowing in. Matty had pretty quickly noticed this melancholy mood she had been in all day when she didn’t react normally to his top tier comedy. It worried him a bit because he was well aware of how hard being on tour could become if you bottled everything up. So, when he saw her looking sorry for herself on the dressing room couch, he figured it was probably as good a time as any to ask.

“You’ve not been yourself all day. What’s wrong?” Matty asked as he plopped himself down next to her, instinctively putting his arm behind her along the back of the couch.

“Just missing home, I guess.” She shrugged.

“That’s pretty normal.” He nodded. “We’ve been on the road for nearly three weeks now.” She let out a sigh, thinking on his answer for a few moments while he absent-mindedly chewed at the side of one of his nails. He was on the road all the time, and had been doing this for years. Surely, he must have some decent ways of coping with stuff like this.

“How do you deal with it?” She questioned.

“Deal with what?” He asked, suddenly knocked out of his daze.

“Homesickness.” She clarified. “Don’t you get homesick too, being on tour all the time?” She asked again.

He hummed thoughtfully as he mulled over the best way to answer that question. “Home isn’t a place, love.” He started. “Home is just a general feeling of comfort and happiness, and [happiness is overrated](https://66.media.tumblr.com/0885275c8c9c2eea25c2fd77bddc3db2/eafc6006ac2c5f92-eb/s540x810/e925e17a894c67ae8d56d0ea5a20da2e9eb08b3b.gifv), to be fair. Give me purpose over happiness any day.” He paused, thinking on that for a brief moment before returning to his original train of thought. “But, erm, what I was saying was, you can put a really soft blanket in your bunk on the bus, wrap yourself up in it with snacks and a well charged phone and feel at home for a while.” He laughed lightly, earning a smile out of her in response. “We don’t treat tour like a party like some bands do, and for the most part we don’t really treat it like a holiday, either. We try and make sure it feels as close to home life as possible and have a proper routine to adhere to. We have plenty of downtime on the bus to stay well rested and we make sure that we are there for each other. I mean, it helps that I’ve been hanging out with the same three guys for nearly two decades, now. They’ve always been a constant for me. My home is more or less the band, as cliché as it sounds. It’s when I’m not on the road with them that I start feeling proper homesick.” He elaborated.

She supposed that made sense, and she could probably take his advice to heart and make the touring environment more comfortable to feel like she missed home a little less. “You don’t just wanna go home and sleep for a few weeks?” She asked.

“No! God, no.” He laughed loudly. “We spent _so long_ sitting on our arses hoping that we got the opportunity to make it. We never knew if we were going to get that or not but our lives relied on it happening. All of our effort went into making this what it is. We don’t want to stop what we’re doing for fear that it’s going to slip through our fingers.”

The atmosphere in the room seemed to have dampened with the heavy conversation topic, and the two of them sat in silence for a few minutes to let the weight of the words sink in. Matty wasn’t really sure what to do with himself. Should he be consoling her because she’s feeling down? Should he be trying to offer a distraction? He didn’t have enough experience in her being sad around him to know what she would want him to do. “Wanna get stoned?” He eventually offered, trying to lighten the mood.

She shook her head with a small smile, “Still gotta go set up for Rome.”

“One day you have to smoke with me, you know.” He huffed with a roll of his eyes, making her laugh lightly. “Would you like a drink, then?” He asked, hauling himself up from the couch.

“You’re just trying to get me drunk because you think it’ll make me talkative.” She said with an accusatory look, finally throwing some banter back in his direction.

He gasped loudly as he walked over to the small fridge in the green room, “You mistake me for some kind of scoundrel.” He said, pulling out two bottles of cider.

“You _are_ some kind of scoundrel, Matty.” She reminded him as he handed her one of the drinks.

“You got me there.” He nodded, tapping his bottle to hers and taking a swig of it. If he couldn’t make her feel less homesick, maybe he could at least get her to have a good time.

He made sure that the drinks flowed steadily throughout the day, and to be at his most entertaining and endearing when he was around her to try and lift her spirits. Flirting wasn’t really any fun when the object of your attentions was too gloomy to properly react. He dragged her to soundcheck, making sure to play a few of her favourites. Then he assisted her with her five minutes worth of work setting up Rome’s shirts, spending the entire time making corny jokes and trying to cheer her up. By the time the show was about to start he could see that her mood had improved. She was finally starting to take proper jabs back at him and was seeming to enjoy herself. The show went about as normally as their shows typically did, but was not any less spectacular. In one final last-ditch attempt to make her feel more at home on tour life, once they were settled back in on the bus after the show, he pulled the duvet out of his bunk and invited her to watch a movie with him and the guys in the back lounge with a few drinks. Snacks and a good movie while rugged up always did the trick for him when he was feeling down. It took a bit of debating amongst the five of them to finally settle on what to watch, and then once they had finally picked something, they only talked over it anyway. However, his plan worked an absolute treat. Having a nice night hanging out with her friends after the excellent day that Matty had already been providing was just the icing on the cake. The drinks had been coming hard and fast in celebration of a good show when it had first ended, but now were starting to taper off. By the time they were halfway through the second movie, most of the guys had already retreated to their bunk, leaving Matty and Y/N/N to finish up the movie before they hit the hay themselves.

Matty had been engrossed in the plot of the movie, until he felt her fingers lightly moving across his upper left arm. His gaze flicked down to hers to see that she had lifted his t-shirt sleeve up and was staring intently at his deer tattoo.

“What you doin’?” He asked with interest. The little voice in the back of his brain shouted at him that he was pretty certain this was the first time that she’d had physical contact with him without being prompted to do so in some way by him. He wasn’t really sure why that knowledge made this moment [feel ](https://66.media.tumblr.com/06e2627a27b9d6a0f6daeca0180c4774/tumblr_pwckfyKIrp1qelb9co2_250.gifv)more important than a simple touch to his shoulder, and the alcohol still buzzing in his brain from a day of steady drinking wasn’t about to help him crack the code. Maybe he was just imagining it. It was probably nothing.

“Why’d you get this one?” She asked, pointing at his arm.

He shrugged slightly in response, “Looked cool at the time. That one isn’t really one of the ones with meaning behind it.” He answered bluntly. “George used to live next to a tattoo parlour when we were younger, so we have heaps from being in there all the time.”

“Which ones are?” She questioned.

“Oh, I… erm… The ones with _proper_ meaning?” He wasn’t really expecting to be showing off his tattoos tonight. She nodded in response. “Um… Well, this one,” He said, pointing to the box and ‘1975’ on his inner right arm, “is obviously for the band. You know this one already,” He added as he tapped his ‘weak messages’ tattoo. “it’s from a David Shrigley book and it’s pretty self-explanatory.” He chuckled. “I’ve got,” He reached down, starting to pull his socks off of his feet, “my parents names on my feet. And this,” He twisted his leg to show off the ship on the back of his left calf, “Is for my little brother.” He then pointed towards a heart on his upper right arm with ‘Allerton’ written in it, “This is for my favourite [book](https://66.media.tumblr.com/9c2d8427cea26f626952a2d7618c2e45/tumblr_ni9tlyC5oA1rz4pf4o1_540.gif). I have dad on my wrist, as well.” He said as he held the right one out for emphasis. “And probably the most important one,” He pulled down the collar of his shirt, trying his best to show the tattoo on his chest. “is this one for my nana. She absolutely hated tattoos, so it only made sense to get one for her. All of the rest aren’t _that_ special.” He finished explaining. She hummed thoughtfully at this new information, trying her best to retain it all. It was interesting to hear about what Matty deemed the important enough things to get branded onto his skin forever.

As the movie was beginning to come to a close, Matty looked around at the empty bottles and the bowls that had once held snacks littering the floor of the lounge. They had an early start tomorrow before their next show. Nobody was going to be picking these up any time soon if he didn’t do it tonight. “I’d better take some of this stuff out of here…” He mumbled quietly, standing up and stretching to try and crack the sore spot in his back. She absent-mindedly watched his movements as he partially blocked her view of the screen. As he reached his arms up above his head, his shirt rode up slightly to reveal part of his ‘[we are kings](https://scontent.fper5-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/122532452_10218397762879587_8904553145641006417_n.jpg?_nc_cat=100&ccb=2&_nc_sid=0debeb&_nc_ohc=jWam7uH4JPAAX-yZRZF&_nc_oc=AQlk-xrAlpHDoA7fSe9awugrQ7-7JWrSo8Pqkr1dByfJTD5AjQ9ntkB9teefGxl3deY&_nc_ht=scontent.fper5-1.fna&oh=4c708cee95b5ace024f6b7ea7dad9b7b&oe=5FBAAE7C)’ tattoo on his abdomen. It was sort of hard to see with the bad lighting and part of it dipping below his belt. But it wasn’t a tattoo that she saw frequently - probably because she tried to avoid being around him when he was without a shirt - and all of their talk about the rest of his tattoos had her over-analysing it. It had more colour in it than what she had thought, and the design was nicer than she had given it credit for. “Hey,” He called, pulling her attention away from his tattoo, “eyes are up here.” He laughed with a suggestive smile. Her gaze flicked back to his as her cheeks started reddening from being caught out staring at him. “I can take this off, if you’d rather?” He asked with a smirk, gesturing to his shirt.

“I’m quite all right, thanks.” She muttered, turning her attention back to the TV.

“ _Sure_.” He chuckled, starting to scoop up the empty bottles. He took a few minutes to tidy up the lounge before waiting for the rest of the movie to play out and then suggesting that they get some rest, given that there was a show to prep for tomorrow.

While she started to get herself ready for sleep, she started realising how much Matty had been going out of his way all day to try and help her feel better. “Hey, Matty…” She started as she tapped him on the shoulder, stopping him before he could clamber into bed. He turned to face her, waiting for her to continue. “Thanks for cheering me up today, it really helped.” She said with a sincere smile.

“It’s fine, really.” He shrugged with a half-smile in return. “You can always talk to me about that sorta stuff, y’know. Being on tour for so long can be hard, it can be draining to be away from the comforts of home for so long.” He added, his tone turning serious.

“Glad to know that you brought me out here for six weeks when you clearly think it’s a really draining experience.” She sniggered.

“You _know_ that’s not what I meant by that.” He said with a roll of his eyes. “Don’t let it fester if you’re feeling shitty, it’ll only make it worse.” He rephrased.

“I know,” She laughed. “Thank you, Matty.” She said again as she climbed into her bunk and he did the same. Staring at the closed curtain in front of him for a moment, his mind drifted back to what they’d spoken about. He felt like things would be back to normal harassment- uh, _flirting_ , tomorrow. But for tonight, he allowed himself to feel a little bit sentimental about being able to help his friend as he fell asleep.

* * *

Despite sleeping well, and getting about as much as he expected that he needed, Matty awoke the next morning with a sore throat and that general feeling of congestion he recognised as being the beginnings of a cold. This was not good. He and George had an interview that he needed to get to before soundcheck and then a show that evening. Today was not a day that his voice could give out on him. He rolled out of bed with the intent of making himself a tea with some honey in it, only to be intercepted by George.

“Matt, I was working on that new track we were talking about and-” He stopped as he looked up at his friend, taking note of the visible paleness and the way that he was breathing through his mouth. “You’re sick.” He stated, instantly taking a step back.

“I’m fine.” But his voice came out a lot hoarser than what he would’ve liked. He tried to clear his throat as best he could before continuing, “I just need a cuppa and some Vicks or something.” He tried to assure his friend. But George was having none of it. If Matty got sick, there was a high chance that the rest of them were about to as well. To get sick halfway through a tour was incredibly inconvenient.

“You need medication. _Now_.” He ordered, pulling his friend through into the kitchen. Matty put the kettle on to boil as the drummer started rifling through the cabinets, pulling out a couple of boxes of this and that. He started popping a few pills out into Matty’s hand, before pouring something into a mug and mixing up a hot drink. “Take two of these, one of these, and then drink this.” He said as he shoved the drink into Matty’s hand. The singer just nodded and swallowed the pills, knowing better than the debate with George on something like this.

It rapidly spread around the bus that Matty was not feeling well, and everyone made their way out of the vehicle as quickly as possible to stop themselves from catching whatever illness he had contracted. The boys had already taken some medication preventatively as they knew that they were going to be unable to avoid being in contact with him for the rest of the day. The meds that George had made him take were starting to take effect as well, and he was beginning to feel quite a bit better. Which was convenient because it wasn’t long after he finally got his shit together that he and George were being shoved into a car for their interview. He’d insisted, much to George’s displeasure, that Y/N/N come along as well. As moral support while he was under the weather, obviously. Thankfully for the drummer’s sanity, Matty was still feeling too unwell to be busy trying to flirt and win bets. But at least he had enough energy in him to get through this interview. The office that they were going to was only twenty minutes or so away. When they arrived, they were shown through the building by a receptionist at the front desk who led them through to a dressing room. The interview that they were doing was sponsored by some clothing designer and they were meant to put on a few pieces from the collection before they sat down in front of the camera. George pretty quickly picked what he wanted and left the room to go and get changed while Matty still deliberated and tried to make himself look slightly less sick. He fiddled around with his reflection in the mirror, trying to get rid of the bags under his eyes and to sort out his hair. She couldn’t help but notice how tired and stressed he appeared. It reminded her quite a bit of when she’d seen him walking into the written interview shortly after she’d met him. She wondered if it was a common theme that he found these sorts of things mentally taxing.

“You seem tired all the time during these interviews.” She commented, watching as he raked a hand through his hair to try and straighten it. He met her gaze through the mirror.

“That’s because I am.” He admitted with a lazy smile.

“Then why do you do so many of them?” She asked with a confused frown.

“Because I have to keep the ball rolling with the band.” He sighed as he turned around to lean against the counter. “People want answers to the questions they have about our music, and me providing that encourages them to listen to it more. I don’t want to start losing people right before we put out what I think is our best work yet.” He shrugged.

“You should take a break for a few days, Matty.” She tried to suggest, already knowing what his answer was going to be.

He laughed loudly as he slipped the jacket he had picked out on, trying his best to straighten it but ending up just messing up his own shirt in the process. “And do what? Just sit on the bus feeling sorry for myself? Fuck that for a laugh.” He scoffed.

“ _Rest._ ” She corrected, the concern coming through in her tone. Was she really that worried about him? “You’re gonna make yourself even more sick if you keep overworking.” She said as she took a step closer to him, reaching up to fold his bent collar back over. He realised that he wasn’t just imagining it; she was definitely starting to show him more attention than what she used to. Was this just what it was like becoming closer friends or was this more of a romantic thing? Were her feelings for him more serious than he’d been assuming? It had been quite a while since he’d had someone try and get close to him for either reason and he was struggling to decipher the two.

“I’ll be all right.” He reassured her, opting to think more on that another time.

The interview was pretty stock standard stuff. Chat about when the new album is out, chat about the latest single, chat about where they’d been on tour so far and where they were headed next. There were no fan sent-in questions which made it a pretty quick ordeal. In fact, the thing that took the longest amount of time was waiting for the interviewer to get the camera into the right position. But it was always interesting for her to see the dynamic that Matty and George had after so many years of friendship. The two of them were inseparable and it was easy to see. They also constantly riled each other up and frequently ignored the interviewer for the sake of being too invested in their own jokes. The interviewer seemed quite happy when they were finally done and the two of them were able to continue their antics elsewhere. However, as opposed to going back to the bus to achieve any sort of recovery in this extra time, Matty insisted that they head straight to the venue to meet up with Adam and Ross for soundcheck. But it had now been a few hours since they finished that up, and he’d still not gone to lie down anywhere or to take a breather like his friends had been suggesting all day. Instead he’d just been stressing himself out backstage for a few hours over how unwell he was still feeling. [He simply did not vibe with being sick](https://66.media.tumblr.com/52e6afffaf1a6389bd5c09a3ed3db5ec/e4031cc461da27d6-aa/s400x600/36156e0561b6f054bae297eecb7ae7323ddadda9.gifv). The medication and the fluids he had been forcing down weren’t doing as much for his recovery as he had hoped it would. A sore throat could throw him right off his game and as soon as that started, he started getting in his own head too much, and then it was all over. Even worse was that these days their set opened with the most voice intensive song on the whole setlist. Why did he have to get sick on tour? Why couldn’t he have gotten sick once he was back at home? It was probably his body telling him that he needed to stop and take a break, but he’d be damned if he took a break in the middle of an international tour.

Y/N/N had found him sitting on one of the [seats up the back of the venue](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/63/23/2b/63232b3c3ac27df3fef3fbfe7db6e1e8.jpg), watching them setting up the lighting rigs with a joint and drinking his third tea in the last hour. “You doing okay, Matty?” She asked with a worried look as she walked down the steps to the row of seats that he was seated in. He looked up at her as he took a large sip of his tea.

“Trying to sort my throat out. I’m worried that my voice is gonna give out on my tonight.” He admitted as she shuffled through the row of chairs to take a seat next to him.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine; you sing pretty much every night.” She said with a smile, trying her best to reassure him.

“Yeah, and I fuckin’ hate it.” He laughed. “It’s just…” He pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out a deep sigh. “It’s so much work for me.” He confessed.

“What do you mean?” She asked in confusion. To the best of her knowledge, Matty had always been the singer in The 1975. Why would he have picked that if that wasn’t what he wanted?

“I was a drummer, y’know, in the bands that we had before this one. Ages ago, I mean. But I liked that. It was easy and I got to smash things on the regular. It was great.” He grinned at the memory. “I just moved over to singing because our original singer left and George was better at it than I was. It made sense too that I was the one singing the words if I was the one writing them.” He explained, taking a drag on the joint sitting in between his fingers.

“But you have such a good voice.” She frowned.

“Only because I’ve practiced at it for years now. I have to work _so hard_ at being able to sing properly. All of the vocal training and stuff. That’s why I use the filters on my voice half of the time, so that I can get a break from having to try and keep it perfect.” He said, watching the smoke drift up into the ceiling of the venue. “And this doesn’t really help.” He added with a light laugh as he held the joint up for emphasis. “But I’m not exactly about to cut it out.”

Despite all of his stressing, the show was a resounding hit, as it always was. He tried to keep his shouting as reserved as he could during People as to not destroy his voice for the rest of the set. Which definitely worked in his favour as he was able to rely on the filters over his voice for a while to keep himself in good stead for the songs where he was on his own. As soon as the show was finished, Matty was forced to bed early with some more cold and flu medication to hopefully wake up feeling better in the morning. He wanted to argue that he was doing fine, but the temptation of extra sleep was too strong when his body knew it needed the rest. The other three band members elected to stay up for a little while, moving to the front end of the bus rather than their usual spot in the back lounge as it was slightly further away from the singer trying to get some sleep. George invited Y/N/N to join them, figuring that she might feel a bit lost without her usual companion. And he was right. She quickly noticed while sitting around the kitchen table with the other boys playing cards that maybe she was becoming _too_ reliant on Matty’s company during this tour. It wasn’t until she was without him that she noticed how frequently she turned to him to make a joke, or expected to hear a response from him after someone else’s comment. The more time that they spent around each other, the worse her feelings got for him. Which she knew full well would happen being confined in a tour bus with him, but it didn’t make the realisation any more comfortable to deal with. Matty had made it clear that he wasn’t in a position to want to commit to anything, so having feelings for him was a moot point in her mind and only made it more difficult for her to deal with him. She felt that maybe taking a step back for a while might be a good idea to avoid complicating things further. 

It only took a couple of days before the singer was back to his full health. Thankfully, with the aid of more medication and forced rest, they were able to get his illness under wraps before it spread to anyone else. And much to Y/N/N’s convenience, Matty being unwell meant that it was easy to get time away from him. The breather from his usually overbearing presence gave her a chance to get her thoughts in order and remind herself that she’d rather not give him the satisfaction of winning this bet he’d created. But now that he was back to his usual self, he was keen to keep chipping away at his goal. And the gig that they had planned for today provided him with the perfect chance. He strolled in to the dressing room of the venue, acting surprised to find her there chatting with Rome.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He said with an innocent smile.

“Aren’t you meant to be soundchecking?” She asked with a frown. She had assumed that now would be a good time to hang out with Rome knowing full well that he was supposed to be otherwise occupied.

“We finished up early, so I just thought that I’d take some time out of my _busy_ schedule and hang out with my buddy Rome here for a bit.” He said as he wrapped an arm around the blue haired boy. “Sound good?”

“Great.” Rome said with a bright smile.

“ _Great_.” She parroted, with a considerably more sarcastic smile of her own.

The three of them sat around catching Matty up on some of the mayhem that had been happening while he’d been out of action. He’d missed out on a few interesting stories. Despite her initial worry that hanging out with him would be awkward or hard to deal with, it turned out that it was perfectly fine. That was, until the third party was removed from the room.

“Rome, we’re up for soundcheck.” Someone shouted through the door. He excused himself from their conversation before heading towards the stage. After thinking that she had made some progress in her time away from Matty, she also found that it was far too easy to fall back into old habits. The conversation definitely shifted into a more guarded space as soon as Rome wasn’t there to act as a buffer. But that wasn’t of any worry to Matty. It had seemed over time that he got better reactions out of her whenever he wore a suit on stage as opposed to anything else. Tonight, he decided that he would put that to the test. That was why he’d suggested to Rome that the dressing room would be a good place to chill out. That was why he’d planned to be here _right_ before he knew Rome’s soundcheck was going to start. So, without warning, he just started stripping off out of his casual t-shirt and jeans. She had been on her phone at the time that he decided to enact this ploy, and when she looked up to say something to him, her brain took a solid few seconds to comprehend exactly what was happening when she saw him standing there in his underwear rifling through the stuff hanging on the clothes rack.

“Matty, _what_ are you doing?” She asked eventually as he pulled a pair of suit pants on.

“Getting changed?” He answered with a scoff as he did up his belt. He turned to face her as he slipped the dress shirt on, and he couldn’t help the self-satisfied grin that worked its way onto his face as she intently watched him button it up.

“Do you have to do that here?” She asked as he tore her eyes away from him.

He glanced around the room for a moment before looking back to her. “Well… yes, actually.” He laughed, “You’re in _our_ dressing room. It’s kind of, you know, the point of the room?” He continued with a pointed look.

“Getting your gear off isn’t gonna make me say that I’m into you.” She mumbled under her breath.

“Sorry, what was that?” He asked as he pulled a tie around his neck.

“Less clothes won’t make me cave.” She was pretty certain that was a lie, but it sounded good.

“No, no, just those last three words you said before?” He smirked.

And just like that, she was back at square one. He knew full well that his plan had worked, so he made good use of the outfit throughout the rest of the evening and the show. She decided to watch from the back sound desk for the evening, needing the distance for a few moments. It was a good excuse to watch Adam’s impressive efforts with the lighting, but really, she just needed to work out how to not be so transparent around Matty. After the show the five of them squished into the back lounge to see if George and Adam could settle their bet on who was better at some game they had been yapping on about all day. The boys very quickly got into a heated discussion about the mechanics of the game and who was more likely to win. However, Matty wasn’t done making up for the time that he had lost when he was sick. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to sit with his arm around Y/N/N; what _was_ slightly less ordinary was to make her very aware of his arm around her by tracing patterns on her back. When he didn’t get a reaction, he figured maybe trying a different spot would get him somewhere. His hand traced lightly up and down the back of her neck, and as soon as the movement started, he felt her freeze up. So _that_ was it. He’d been trying over the last couple of weeks to work out where any sweet spots might be, and it seemed like he’d finally found one. Albeit, it wasn’t exactly an easy thing to play off of platonically, but he could make it work.

But before he had the chance, the sound of her ringtone caught them both off-guard. She excused herself from their conversation, ducking out of the open bus door to take the call. Matty found himself tuning out of the conversation he had been in to try and pick up what he could hear of the phone call. From the small snippets he was hearing, it sounded serious. She came back inside a few moments later looking stressed.

“Is everything all right?” Ross asked with a concerned frown.

The expression on her face probably could’ve answered that question before she had to, but she decided to anyway. “Not really… I, uh… I need to go home for a couple of days.” She started, still trying to piece together the information that had been relayed to her over the phone.

Adam paused the game and put his controller down on the table, “What happened?” He asked.

“My house was broken into.” She answered. The boys shared a collective look of worry.

“Oh, shit.” George muttered under his breath.

“It’s fine, everything will be okay.” She reassured them, running a hand through her hair as she let out an exasperated sigh. “I have insurance that will cover it.” She nodded, mostly speaking to herself than them.

“Why do you need to go home, then?” Matty asked in confusion.

“I need to go home to sign some forms in person and start the claims process.” She explained.

“Go chat to Jamie, he’ll sort out your flights.” George instructed with a firm nod.

After a quick chat with Jamie, everything was sorted for her to fly out that night to be home as soon as possible. She figured that she didn’t need to pack too much, given that she would be going home and then be back here within a few days. It was just the absolute necessities that she needed to make sure that she didn’t leave on the bus. But the taxi to come and pick her up was arriving within the hour, so she had to get her shit together straight away. As she was trying to sort her things out, she saw Matty wander out of the back lounge out of the corner of her eye. He leaned against the frame of the bunks, watching as she shoved a few things back into her backpack.

“Do you really need to go?” He asked hesitantly.

“I’ll be back in a few days, Matty. I’m sure you’ll survive.” She laughed.

“Oh, I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about _you_.” He shot back, trying to cover up his anxiety that the person he’d spent the majority of his time around for the last three weeks was about to leave.

“Jamie has already sorted the flights; I’ll meet back up with you guys once I’m done.” She said, electing to ignore his comment. Her goodbyes to her bus-mates were only quick, as she knew that she’d be back fairly soon. Before they knew it, she was on her way to the airport.

At first Matty thought that his worrying had been for nothing. The first day was perfectly fine. They had a radio interview, they had a show, did a few social media posts for the band, he was mostly kept busy. But after the show in their downtime, he was hit with a harsh realisation. He was quickly reminded that of late, quite a bit of his free time was usually spent bothering her. And now that she was back at home but he was still here, their time differences didn’t really line up conveniently to chat over text. He’d spent years in the company of Adam, Ross and George, and yet over the course of a few weeks their otherwise normal hangouts felt off. It felt like there was a sudden chunk of his life that was just… missing? Like it had been ripped out from under him leaving him sprawling to find the pieces.

The next day was considerably harder. Now that he’d noticed the part of his social circle that was lacking, it was hard to get his mind away from it. The more that he dwelled on it, the more apparent it became, the more it nagged at the back of his mind. It was a vicious cycle he couldn’t seem to break. He had let himself become quite reliant on her company to keep him in a positive headspace, and now he was struggling to pull himself back to one by himself. Maybe if she hadn’t had to leave so unexpectedly, it’d be a different scenario. Maybe if he’d had more time to mentally prepare himself for the absence. But he hadn’t. He’d expected that he was going to be able to have that crutch for the whole tour. He couldn’t concentrate, wasn’t able to put in the usual amount of effort expected of him. For lack of a better frame of comparison, the way it ate away at him reminded him of withdrawals. Except this was entirely mental whereas those were typically physical. The gig that they had that night was his only relief from his thoughts. What he had learned about their shows over the years, was that they were always full of hardcore fans. Many of their shows sold out within a few days of being announced; and they had _always_ sold out like that. He knew that when he went out on stage at a show that had sold out so quickly, he didn’t have anything to worry about. Everybody had already given him the benefit of a doubt. To know him, to love his band, these people had to _get_ him. He had come to terms with the fact that if you’re in a room full of people who get you, you can do whatever the fuck you want. But like anything, the relief of the show eventually ended when he had to walk off stage.

By the third day, the rest of the band had started to notice that he was off his game. They tried to keep him distracted, but he was too wound up in his own downward spiral to really appreciate their efforts. Then they tried to talk to him about it, but he only got defensive and claimed that the issue stemmed back to his own dependence issues and inability to sort things out by himself. Which wasn’t untrue, he felt like the branch he had been standing on had been cut down from underneath him. It took them quite a bit of effort to get him out to their full band interview that day. George ended up having to bribe him with half a bag of weed to convince him to get his arse into the car. The interview itself was then another struggle entirely. Matty was normally the charismatic chatterbox who talked over everyone else, but today he wasn’t giving anything more than one-word answers, or he was going in the complete opposite direction and veering entirely off topic.

“…What was your question?” Matty asked, frowning at the interviewer after he finally realised that he’d spoken for five minutes about nothing in particular.

The interviewer let out a deep sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose in agitation. “What’s the new album going to be like?” He asked again.

“Yeah, it’s good. Different.” Matty answered with a shrug, chewing at the side of his nail. George was starting to lose his patience with his friend. It was beginning to get ridiculous just how much he was auto-piloting his way through this. Halfway through the next question, a ring tone suddenly began filling the room. The interviewer had a brief moment of panic before admitting that it was his own phone and pulling it out of his pocket. He quickly read the name across his screen before excusing himself.

“I’m so sorry, I just have to take this.” He muttered as he paused the camera recording and quickly stepped over to the other side of the room to take the call. George looked across at Matty, watching as he pulled the [sleeves of his shirt over his hands](https://66.media.tumblr.com/5c6456103218a6731e894056f45be784/tumblr_py1kdhmgUZ1teew98o1_400.gif), scrunching and un-scrunching the fabric in his fists repeatedly.

“Matthew.” George hissed, trying to get his attention without the interviewer hearing them.

“What?” He mumbled without looking away from his hands.

“Mate, pull it together. At least make a little bit of effort, would you?” He chastised.

“She’ll be back soon, man.” Ross chimed in, [trying to console his friend](https://66.media.tumblr.com/7ff8e734efe0a1f78f3074d813d8b041/tumblr_p89swmojWb1wl26duo1_500.gifv) but instantly earning a glare from the singer.

“It’s _not_ about her.” He spat back through gritted teeth. He hated that they were pinning this down to that.

“Then what _is_ it about?” Adam asked in an attempt to finally get him to tell them what exactly it was that was causing him so much grief. But the issue was that it was about _everything_. They’d been on tour for four weeks now. He hadn’t seen his family in _four_ _weeks_. Or his dog. How was Allen? How was _his_ house? Was everything at home still as he’d left it? He was reminded of when they went out on their first big tour. His parents got divorced, his nana died, his parents sold his childhood home, everything that could go wrong, did. He came home to a life that wasn’t his anymore. And now without a distraction to keep his mind occupied, he was suffering under that weight of being away again. The anxiety that everything was going to fall apart without him being there to look after it was suffocating. He just needed something to shut his brain up. The prickling need at the back of his brain to sedate his thoughts was too tempting. That bag of weed that George owed him would have to do, it was going to be put to good use as soon as they got back to the bus.

“It’s fine. I’m _fine_.” He grumbled as the interviewer walked back over.

“Um… I just need to find the question that we were up to…” The interviewer said quietly to himself as he sat down and flicked back through his pages of notes.

“We were talking about song writing.” George piped up.

“Oh, yes. That’s right.” He nodded. “Matty, does it help you to write a song about the issues in your life? Does it help you understand the themes that you write about any better?” He asked.

Matty looked across at George before he answered, who gave him an encouraging look. He let out a long sigh as he tried to put some actual thought into this one, “Well, I mean, I try to understand it better through that process. Writing music is my catharsis. It’s almost quite dangerous sometimes, because as soon as something is particularly emotional or engaging, whether it be a death or a this or a that, this is what I do. And I have a licence to do it. It’s an apparatus to immediately give it context. Something bad happens, I turn it into art - there’s the context, there’s the catharsis. Whether it’s healthy or not I don’t know, that’s a different conversation. Maybe in five years I’ll realise I’ve never actually dealt with anything.” He replied with a shrug. The interviewer seemed taken aback by his answer. It took him a moment to recover from the shock of Matty finally being a functioning human to regain his composure and ask the next question.

They made it back to the tour bus after a few more decent answers from Matty once the interviewer was satisfied that he had enough content to actually piece together a decent video. But as soon as he was back on the bus, the weed that he had thought would help him calm his brain down didn’t really assist him at all. His mind was still running a mile a minute about things outside of his control. He remembered that Jamie had mentioned earlier that morning that Y/N/N’s flight was coming in later today. Matty was pretty certain that if he flicked back through his emails, he’d be able to find the flight number that she was booked on. If he could be at the airport for when she landed, he’d be able to get her back in time for the show. Maybe having her there for that would finally put his mind at ease again. The thoughts bubbling away in his brain just felt like an irritating itch under his skin. He felt like he wasn’t himself at the moment, like everything was just shifted an inch to the left and he kept tripping over things that seemed to not be a problem before. He just wanted to get a decent night’s sleep and go back to feeling normal.

So, as soon as soundcheck had wrapped up, he excused himself from his bandmates and said he was going back to the tour bus. Only to catch a taxi and head to the airport. He figured that if they knew what he was going to do they’d probably tell him that it was a bad idea, but he’d already made up his mind. The taxi driver thankfully had no idea who he was, which meant that he would be able to keep his privacy for at least a little while longer. However, depending on how busy it was, entering the airport itself might be another story. He was quickly reminded as soon as the taxi pulled up that he _despised_ airports. They were such a recipe for disasters waiting to happen: flight changes at the last second, cancelled flights hours after delays, misplaced bags the second you arrive somewhere international, miscalculations, malfunctions, miscommunications. He didn’t want to deal with _any_ of that, much less at 30,000 feet in the air in a machine that moves so fast it cannot physically stay on the ground. And god forbid anyone find out that he was actually at such a public place as an airport, because he knew for a fact that as soon as word got out about it, he’d be swarmed by people. There was only one way out of an airport if you didn’t have a flight booked, which made it incredibly hard to get away from people if they cornered him. But despite all of this, he pushed his way through his anxiety and the revolving door of the airport to take a seat at the gate. He waited tensely as the landing times slowly shifted further and further up the electronic board. Picking at his hoodie sleeve, he tried to keep his mind occupied until her flight finally landed.

Her flight over hadn’t been too bad, but it had been fairly long and the fatigue was hitting her pretty hard as she passed through customs. So, when she spotted a familiar figure sitting in the terminal as she pulled her bags through the gates, her brain took quite a few moments to process this unusual information. Nobody had told her someone was going to pick her up. She recognised the hoodie and sunglasses approaching her before she recognised the man wearing them. But it was safe to say that she wasn’t exactly _expecting_ to see the man in front of her as soon as she stepped off of her plane. “Matty?” She asked in confusion as he pulled her into a hug tight enough to nearly squeeze the air out of her lungs. His usual aroma of weed and charity shop shirts was comfortingly familiar. “What are you doing here?” She asked, her voice straining from the strength of his arms around her. He let her go before answering her question.

“Picking you up.” He replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why _you_?” She asked, still completely perplexed by this situation as he started walking towards the doors. She followed after him, waiting curiously for his answer. It didn’t make any sense for Matty to come out on an errand like this. He had better things to be doing with his time. It was also way too likely that people would catch wind of it and follow him out here, which was the last thing that he needed.

“Everyone else was busy.” He lied.

“I didn’t need anyone to come grab me. I could’ve just caught a taxi.” She reminded him, but he didn’t seem to be listening. He seemed on edge, and not just in the normal way of being mildly wary that someone might try and talk to him while he was out and about. His hands were shoved deep into his hoodie pockets, his eyes trained on the ground he was walking across and the way he was holding himself all seemed… wrong. She nudged him with her elbow, trying to get his attention, “Are you all right?”

“I don’t like airports.” He mumbled.

“Then why on earth did you come to pick me up?” She laughed. He didn’t answer.


	8. I'm So Fixated

The boys never bothered to tell her about how moody Matty had been while she was away, because as soon as she had returned, he was back to his normal self anyway. It literally took the space of the taxi ride from the airport back to the venue before he started feeling the relief of her presence washing over him. He was back on his game for the show that they had that night, and everyone was able to see it from those on stage to those in the crowd. That usual magnetism of his had returned. Due to the typical chaos of the show and then having to get everyone back into the bus and on the road to the next one, Y/N/N and Matty didn’t really get to properly hang out with one another until they were finally at the next venue. Whenever the others in their group were around, everyone just wanted to find out if everything had been okay when she got back home. So, Matty figured that he could wait. He still had plenty of time across their remaining two weeks of the tour, and maybe it was best to give her some space after a long-haul flight and dealing with a house break-in. However, he was happy to discover that once they had the chance, she was as eager to spend time with him as he was her. The next day saw the two of them hanging around the stage waiting for the other guys to arrive for soundcheck.

“Teach me the Tootime dance.” She said to Matty from her spot sitting on top of the barrier.

“What?” He asked with a frown, looking up from tuning his guitar.

“You know, that dance that you do in Tootime with Taitlyn and Kaylee near the end of the song.” She elaborated.

“ _What_?” He asked again, this time laughter seeping into his incredulous tone. “Why would you want to learn that? That thing is only four steps.” He pointed out.

“And?”

He paused, thinking a moment before replying, “Why don’t I teach you the It’s Not Living stuff instead?” He offered.

“That’s just running on the spot.” She argued.

“No, it’s not. There’s more to it than that.” He said, trying to defend himself.

“I don’t wanna run on the spot while holding a guitar. That sounds like hard work.” She frowned, glancing at the guitar hanging from his shoulders.

“You’re the one who keeps complaining that working for Rome isn’t _enough_ work.” He shot back. She just stuck her tongue out at him in response. “Fine, I’ll teach you the Tootime dance. C’mere.” He said, motioning for her to join him up on the stage.

“Hann,” Ross called out from where he was standing near the lighting booth at the back of the venue, catching the guitarists attention who had been busily trying to set up the light timings for the newest addition to their setlist. He gestured for him to come over to where he was standing before directing his attention down to the two of them dorking around on the stage. “What’s the bet: how long before Matt notices that _he_ is the one that’s into _her_?” He asked. Adam hummed thoughtfully, trying to come up with an accurate guess at how much longer their friend would remain clueless. “I bet you a tenner that he’ll work it out before the end of this tour.” He added.

The guitarist laughed loudly. “Really?? I think it’ll be at least another month.” He countered.

“Wanna put your money where your mouth is?” He offered again, holding his hand out for Adam to agree to the terms.

The two of them felt a hand clap down on each of their shoulders before they could seal the deal, looking over to see George standing behind them. “You’re both wrong.” He said, shaking his head. “He’s not gonna work it out until someone tells him.” He continued.

“You really have that little faith in him?” Ross asked with an eyebrow raised.

“I bet you both a _fifty_.” George challenged, holding his hand out. The two of them shared a look, before nodding and shaking George’s hand. It seemed pretty unlikely that someone as smart as Matty would be dense enough not to see it. “You guys saw him last week when she was gone; you both know how one track minded he can get. He’s way too caught up in his own shit to notice.” The drummer explained with a self-satisfied grin that he’s just made an easy hundred.

Matty’s three bandmates decided to give him his space throughout the day after seeing how much he was relishing in finally having her company back. And it proved to be a beneficial decision, as his good mood was contagious to anyone in close proximity to him. When everyone on The 1975 crew was in a good mood, the entire process of the show was seamless. Setup and pack-down occurred in record time without Matty moping around the stage, and they were on the way to the next stop on the tour well before schedule. After winding down from their show, George was promptly reminded by a group text from Jamie that their latest single from Notes was dropping that night at midnight. Which he realised was only about fifteen minutes away. He rallied his friends around the small dining room on the bus to wait for the time to tick by. The anxiety in the air was palpable as the moment got closer and closer. Matty drummed his fingers on the table, staring out of the window at the passing road. First impressions were important to him with things like this - something that he had put so much effort and care into. As much as this was technically their third release off of Notes, it was still the first impression of this _particular_ song that he was about to hear. This track also felt quite personal. To be fair, all of his tracks were - his lyrics were always directly referencing his life and desires. But this one dealt with a lot of his insecurities about, well, being insecure. Being sincere in life was hard, but doing it in song was much easier for him. _Dealing_ with people _hearing_ it in song? That was terrifying. What were people going to think? Were they going to respond positively? Were-

The singer let out a deep sigh, trying to push the nerves to the back of his mind. “Are you guys ready for the reactions?” Matty asked as he tapped away at his phone. Y/N/N looked around the bus in mild confusion as she stepped into the kitchen, feeling like she was intruding on a band meeting or something.

“They’ll be good, I’m sure. We all agreed that it was a tune.” Ross said with a firm nod, Adam making a few noises of agreement from the other side of the table. The mood in the room was very tense, but trying to piece together what was happening from the limited information that they were offering was proving difficult.

George pretty quickly sensed her curiosity, “We’re releasing a new song tonight off of Notes.” He explained.

“Which one?” She asked.

“It’s the song that you heard me working on the other week.” Matty answered, turning his phone to show her the post he was about to publish. Ah. That made sense.

“Oh, I quite liked that one.” She nodded, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge. “It’ll definitely be a positive response.”

As much as he felt like he didn’t need the validation - that he had enough faith in the band’s skill by this point in time - he couldn’t deny that hearing her reassurance put him a step closer to being calm nonetheless. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she leant against the wall next to him, glancing over his shoulder as he shared the song to The 1975’s social media accounts. The comments started rolling in as soon as the post was up – every time they refreshed the page there were another set to go through. The band ended up using each of their own phones to keep up with the torrent of reactions, making mention of the notable ones as they saw them. Overall, it was a positive response for the majority. There were the odd comments about how different the track was, that it was so unlike their other songs and jarring as a result, but that was to be expected. Matty didn’t want to be releasing things this far into his career that sounded like what he’d done in the past. If you weren’t making progress and experimenting with new things, you were just stagnating. What was the point in that? And if they didn’t like this, then they _definitely_ weren’t going to like the album. They were delighted to see a few texts roll in from friends and family remarking on their thoughts of the track. Those were the opinions that they valued most. The five of them crowded around the table continued chatting about the reviews that were still rolling in as they felt the bus roll to a stop. It was the middle of the night; they hadn’t expected to be stopping at this hour. Upon a quick glance out the window, Adam could see petrol bowsers. The bus driver shouted over his shoulder something about refuelling that made the pieces click into place.

“Well, since we’re stopping, I’ll be back in a minute.” Matty said as he pulled a cigarette out of its packet and stood up. As much as he was normally fine with smoking on the bus, he liked to take the opportunity to do so outside when it was presented; even if just for the sake of those around him who didn’t smoke trapped in that space with him. Also, after how high strung he had been about dropping the new track, he really needed the relief. He was about halfway to the door when he heard someone speak up behind him.

“I might step out too.” Y/N/N added, pushing herself away from the wall.

“You don’t smoke.” He pointed out with a curious eyebrow raised.

“I’m allowed to get some fresh air.” She shot back as she breezed past him and outside of the bus.

“You could just open a window, you know.” He shrugged in response, but followed after her regardless; not wanting to decline good company.

The night air had quite a bit of bite to it as the two of them stepped outside. She wrapped her arms around herself to deal with the sudden drop in temperature as she watched him lean against the side of the bus next to her and [light up his cigarette](https://scontent.fper5-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/122945411_10218397763359599_381543790573802855_n.jpg?_nc_cat=110&ccb=2&_nc_sid=0debeb&_nc_ohc=ppSM_uTV3AYAX_pTB1p&_nc_ht=scontent.fper5-1.fna&oh=19f9faf2924ae78b3b7b69ad3687c29d&oe=5FBAC919). Taking a deep drag, he looked around the petrol station. It was always strange seeing what should be a busy establishment at any normal hour deserted at a time like this. The feeling reminded him of stepping into an alternate reality. Things seemed to exist differently in the early hours of the morning. Before he had the chance to make an offhand comment about this, he noticed that her gaze was fixed on the smoke he had just exhaled above them. He hadn’t realised before that she seemed to watch him every time he was smoking. Thinking back on it, despite that she herself didn’t smoke, she never made a point to leave the room when he did like most people had in his experience. Previously he’d been too focused on the fact that she constantly declined his offers to smoke weed with him to really notice. But he was suddenly very aware of the way that she watched his hands as he held the cigarette. She could be standing out here on her phone, or taking in their surroundings, watching the stars, _something_. But instead, she absentmindedly held her gaze on him as he released the smoke from his lungs. _Interesting_. He didn’t have the time to think of an eloquent way to bring that up before the driver was making his way back into the bus and ushering them inside to set off on the road again. That information would have to be tucked away for future reference.

After an evening of being trapped in the bus with the two of them attached at the hip and swapping knowing looks all night, Adam was starting to lose his mind. It wasn’t unusual behaviour for them, but it only seemed to have gotten worse since she got back. Something had to happen either way in this situation. Whether they finally shacked up or she finally properly shut him down or _god forbid_ Matty did turn around and fuck it all up, _something_ had to be done. If he had to endure much more of this, he was going to go insane. He knew that ideally for the sake of his friends, he wanted things to end well, but the little voice in the back of his brain reminded him that Matty liked to go through… _phases_ , with things. He would become obsessed with something and then drop it for the next greatest thing a few weeks later. To her credit, it had been a good few months now and he still seemed hell bent on her. But he didn’t really want to see Matty win this bet and then lose all interest once his goal was achieved. By his own confession, it was just a bet. Nothing more. And he seemed to be getting closer to that by the day. Adam had noticed the way that she watched him more than usual, how she seemed to turn him down less and less. It was inevitable at this point. George had mentioned that he’d had the odd chat with the both of them before, but Adam felt like he had to make things abundantly clear. He’d known Matty for long enough now to know that he had a bad habit of messing up good things. Despite that he was a very blunt person who was typically very clear with his intent, things often looked different through rose coloured glasses.

So, when they’d reached the next venue, he’d suggested that himself and Y/N/N go for a walk to grab a coffee and have a chat before their day begun. Thankfully, neither her nor Matty seemed to bring up any issues with this when he offered it. Which saved him having from having to awkwardly explain his motivations in front of who he wanted to talk about. As she stepped out of the bus door onto the pavement, Adam took a quick glance behind her.

“Where’s Matt?” He asked with a frown, having expected her shadow to at least attempt to follow her out here.

“He’s been holed up in the back lounge trying to sort out some song for the last while.” She answered as they started walking.

Adam nodded in understanding. “Sounds like him to fixate on that…” He thought for a moment, before taking the easy segue that was offered to him. “That boy is typically fleetingly obsessive with things. He’ll turn up one day with a video camera and projector, ‘Look, I’m making a film.’ Yeah, all right, mate.” He scoffed with a laugh. “Two weeks later, he’s lost the charger and he’s forgotten about what he wanted to record.” He added, the both of them laughing at how typical that was of the mile a minute mind that was Matthew Healy. “That’s what makes him great when he focuses though, he is endlessly passionate.” He explained, trying to loop back around to his original point.

“But that’s, uh… actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” Adam added sheepishly.

“Oh?”

“Because currently what he’s stuck on, is you.” He admitted.

“Oh.”

“He’s very hung up on this bet thing, and I just wanted to make sure that you’re not thinking that it’s…” He waved his hands dismissively as he tried to find the right words, “something else.” He was struggling to find a way to make this sound nice. But at the end of the day, this conversation _wasn’t_ nice. He was throwing his friend under the bus and potentially hurting another.

“No, I know.” She said with a nod. “I know that it’s just a weird thing he has going with himself. He’s made it clear that he doesn’t know what he wants.” Her greater sense of reasoning knew that what she had said was true, but saying it out loud made it hit differently. Hearing the words come from her own mouth after spending the last five weeks on tour with Matty stung a little bit more than she’d care to admit. The issue was, she was already in too deep. The damage was done and a naïve part of her still held out hope that maybe he was going to change his mind. That wasn’t going to change unless her feelings for him magically dissipated. But him not being clear on what he wanted was the entire reason that she hadn’t admitted anything – she had to remember that.

Adam sensed the sudden dampened atmosphere between them, trying his best to change the topic and lighten the mood now that he had said his piece. But she’d already dragged herself back to reality and been slapped in the face with the harsh reminder that she was probably going to get burned by the Matty sized hole she’d dug herself as soon as the tour ended. She couldn’t really change any of it now. The best she could do was just try and not let herself get too much more invested, and the stubborn part of her definitely didn’t want to let him win that dumb bet. So, it was business as usual. Keep lying about it and hope for the best. She opted to skip soundcheck that day, instead deciding to hang out on the bus and get some space to herself. The only issue was that it proved difficult to relax in such a small area when it was littered with everyone’s stuff. Her eventual boredom inspired her to want to clean up this mess, which wasn’t exactly an easy feat for how their gang left it sometimes. But it needed to be done and it kept her mind occupied.

However, her attempt at some alone time ended almost as soon as it felt like it had begun. George had been the first to get back to the bus after soundcheck, only an hour after having left. He threw a quick ‘hello’ and ‘thanks for tidying up’ over his shoulder as he made his way through to the back lounge. Experience had taught her that his best friend probably wouldn’t be far behind, and she was right – because her absence hadn’t gone unnoticed by Matty. Once he’d realised that she wasn’t around, and his band nor Rome had any idea where she was, he went looking for her at the soonest opportunity. The bus door opened again, and she was unsurprised to hear steady footsteps approaching her as she stood at their small kitchen sink, attempting to scrub the grime build up off of a plate that had been sitting on the counter for a few days now. She knew full well who it was before he said anything, but she didn’t anticipate his next moves. His hand came to rest on the small of her back as his head all but rested on her shoulder. Matty watched in amusement as her movements tensed and she abruptly stopped washing the dishes that she was in the middle of.

“I didn’t see you at soundcheck,” He said in a low voice, intentionally letting his breath fan across the side of her neck, “just thought I’d check in.” The gears in her mind simply stopped turning as her heartbeat hammered in her ears. It seemed like the gears might have just fallen straight out of place and were now tumbling steadily down to the pit of nerves that had formed in her stomach. The feeling of him being so close sent a shiver down her spine as her skin prickled under his breath. For how close his breath felt, his lips must’ve been within a few centimetres of the side of her neck. This was a targeted attack. She didn’t know _how_ he knew, but it was abundantly clear that he knew _exactly_ what he was doing. The self-satisfied smile was evident in his tone and gave away his intentions. This was a whole different game to what they had been playing thus far. Matty in the past had been all bark and no bite, which was easy enough to shrug off. It was one thing for him to look attractive, or to throw a flirty remark out there, but _this_? This would prove majorly difficult to not cave in to if he started hitting buttons as sensitive as this.

Her knuckles were turning white from how hard she was gripping the counter in front of her to force herself not to react to him. She let out a jagged sigh when he finally moved back a bit and she could regain control of her thoughts. “How do you even know about that?” She asked, trying her best to keep her voice steady.

“Know about what?” He asked innocently.

She turned around to face him and he couldn’t help but grin at the bright red painting her cheeks. “You fucking _know_ what.” She glared.

“If you’d just admit that you were into it-”

“Being into _it_ doesn’t mean I’m into _you_.” She interrupted.

“The two do correlate.” He reasoned, still far too happy with himself that he worked this out.

“Correlation does not equal causation.” She shot back, falling back onto her university teachings to try and get him to shut up.

He leaned in slightly, holding her gaze. “Even in your case?” He asked lowly. She didn’t reply, instead choosing to brush past him and head towards the back lounge. Matty let out a quiet laugh of satisfaction, figuring that he should get himself off of the bus before something was thrown at him.

“ _Matthew_!” George’s voice shouted from the back of the bus, catching his attention before he shut the door behind him. “Give the girl a fuckin’ break, would ya?”

Y/N/N had stormed her way into the back lounge, and upon seeing how flustered she was George felt obligated to ask what was wrong. But he should’ve _known_ that it would be Matty’s doing. It was naïve to think that he might let up on this stupid bet of his. George was pretty surprised that she hadn’t already left. She was clearly frustrated at how annoying he was being, though apparently not mad enough to actually leave. But he was also fairly sure he knew exactly why she hadn’t left yet. “You _are_ into him, yeah?” The drummer eventually asked without looking away from the game that he was playing. She looked up at him from the other side of the couch, trying to form an answer but her brain still reeling slightly.

“No.” She lied instinctually. “Yes.” She corrected, before suddenly doubting that answer as well. “Maybe, kind of. How do you know?” She asked as she frowned across at him.

George just stared at her sarcastically. “You flew all the way out here just to hang out with him for a few weeks.” He pointed out.

“And the rest of you!” She said, trying to defend herself at least a bit. But she was pretty confident that he was right.

“I’m not daft,” He laughed loudly, “and neither’s he. Why won’t you tell him?” He asked, turning his attention back to the game.

“His ego is big enough as it is.” She answered. “And…” She was reminded of her conversation earlier with Adam, “if I tell him then I need to deal with the aftermath of that. He’s already said he doesn’t know what he wants, so why would I put myself out there with nothing in return?” She admitted quietly.

“Fair enough.” He nodded. There was a pause in the conversation before George decided to state the obvious, just in case it wasn’t already common knowledge: “He already knows that you are.”

“Then why is he pushing so hard to hear it?” She huffed in annoyance.

“He wants you to say it for the same reason you won’t tell him; ‘cause he’s an arrogant wanker.”


	9. My Irregular Heartbeat

They finally had a full break day between two shows in the same city. It had taken five weeks to get one, but now it was here at least. However, Y/N/N knew better than to assume this break day would actually be used for something _crazy_ like a break. No, of course not. Because knowing Matty, it was not a surprise at all that he dragged the band to a nearby studio he had heard about to try and smash out this idea that had been stuck in his head for a few days now. They all seemed more than happy enough to follow him on this endeavour, and watching them work as such a cohesive unit was very interesting. It was easily apparent that they had been together for so long, because they could practically read each other’s minds. Before George had even finished his sentence on the idea he had, Adam was already playing it, or Ross was already trying to fine-tune the melody. The four of them all worked on the same wavelength. She supposed that was just a part of working together for as long as they had. But maybe that was also _why_ they had worked together for as long as they had, because they understood each other.

“Matty, we’re gonna record a few bits. Did you have lyrics in mind?” George asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Sort of. I’ll go check what I had written down.” He nodded, picking up his guitar and strolling out of the recording room and into another section of the studio. She had figured that there was no point in hanging around only to potentially interrupt the other boys’ recordings, so she followed him out to wherever he was headed.

He led her through the halls down into a small studio space with a desk at one end and a few couches at the other, not seeming to mind that she had followed. This seemed more like a track editing room than anything else. Matty sat himself down in the desk chair in the studio, pulling his [guitar onto his lap](https://scontent.fper5-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/122769151_10218397759959514_1669378755428806169_n.jpg?_nc_cat=109&ccb=2&_nc_sid=0debeb&_nc_ohc=AI3kmfhsGJ0AX91oOf9&_nc_ht=scontent.fper5-1.fna&oh=bed59631efe4ff20385ac95b1391f8b2&oe=5FBDB8DD). His notebook that she frequently saw him with was placed on the desk in front of him. He played the same melody that she had heard them go over numerous times in the recording area, making sure that it was fresh in his mind. Every now and again in between the melodies he glanced at his open notebook lying on the desk, sometimes scribbling something or crossing something out. A small smile was playing on his lips as he tried to get the rhythm of the words in line with what he was going for. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to recreate something he already had in mind or write something entirely new, but either way he seemed completely engrossed in it. This was the sort of moment where she would’ve admitted she had feelings for him if he asked - the sort of moment when she could be caught off guard enough by the genuine nature of the situation to tell the truth. A moment like this when it was just the two of them without the jokes, without the front Matty put up sometimes, a moment seemingly without the bet. Him just being himself and not trying to impress or be something else. But this wasn’t the Matty that was about to press her for confirmation on something that he already knew. Because at this current point, he didn’t want to play that game. He didn’t need to. He was comfortable in this instant with how things were. And she just wanted the peacefulness of it all to remain for a bit longer, so she wasn’t exactly about to throw a spanner in the works and fuck it all up by telling him.

It was a good while before he was knocked out of the trance that he was in and looked across the room at her. He’d been so far down the rabbit hole of his own creativity that he had forgotten that there was another person in the room with him. For how much time had passed, he had figured that she might’ve been waiting patiently to ask him how long was going to be left, but she just stared back at him with a neutral expression. “You’ve been rather quiet.” He stated, scrawling a quick line down in his notebook.

“Would you rather I interrupt you while you’re trying to write a song?” She asked in confusion.

“I mean… you’re welcome to.” He offered.

“How do you write your lyrics?” She asked, eyeing the pages he kept glancing towards.

He pondered on the question for a moment. “Typically, I write to fit the rhythm of the song first and foremost. Like we had the tune for It’s Not Living before we had the lyrics and I wrote around that. But usually I just imagine a real situation, I amplify it, I make it slightly more romantic and idealistic, and I write about it. That search of trying to find something that makes me _truly_ happy, of being on that [precipice](https://scontent.fper5-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/122686751_10218397763119593_5968379566596936332_n.jpg?_nc_cat=100&ccb=2&_nc_sid=0debeb&_nc_ohc=hnAnZybgQL0AX-9E8Zx&_nc_ht=scontent.fper5-1.fna&oh=cd8f6356ad0af1d1f7d2e1b3d6ed67f0&oe=5FBA57F7) of finding it, is a lot of what my music is made up of.” He explained. She just gave a small nod in response. He waited for her to add something else, or ask something else, but she didn’t, she just watched him. “What?” He asked eventually with a frown.

“It’s just nice watching you do what you do best and seeing you so content.” She admitted with a shrug. “It’s rare to see you not being all cocky and loud.”

He gave a quiet laugh at that, adjusting the capo a fret down on the neck of his guitar. “You know full well that all that’s just an act.” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise at his blunt honesty. Maybe the genuine vibes in the room were not one-sided. “It’s a self-defence mechanism. If I act like I am those things, then it’s easier to not fall back on the more negative shit.”

“But song writing is a really important thing in my life.” He continued, “I’d kill myself without music. Immediately. Life is pointless without music for me.” He paused for a moment, but she knew better by this stage in their friendship than to try and interject when he was following a train of thought. “If you think about it, the first time that you learn about something - like a first kiss, for example - is through cinema. It looks beautiful and it’s _soundtracked_. That’s very important.” He looked up at her, giving her a pointed look for emphasis. “I remember the first time I went to kiss a girl, the first thing that I was aware of was that there was no music playing. And I didn’t like that.” He frowned at the memory, before glancing down at his guitar and starting the riff over again. It had a very different feel to it than the other songs that they’d put out from Notes. The melody and style of guitar he was playing almost reminded her of Chocolate. “Music doesn’t exist physically. Yet it commands every facet of my personality. It has the power to command people how to feel - music can command someone how to feel on an emotional level _uncontrollably_. I just find that so fascinating.” He mused. A soft knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts.

“How’d you go Matt?” George asked as he popped his head in through the door.

“I think I have some decent stuff.” He smiled with a nod in his friends’ direction as he handed over his notebook.

The five of them regrouped in the recording area, playing over what they had tracked to make sure they were happy with it before Matty pitched a few of the lyrical ideas he had gotten together. It was interesting to listen in as the song took shape. Once everyone was satisfied that they were heading in the right direction, they packed away their gear for the day.

“Congrats on a job well done, boys.” George grinned as they stepped out onto the street. “Should we put the gear away and grab a drink to reward ourselves?” He suggested as he started heading in the direction of their buses. Thankfully for his arms- shoulders- back, he hadn’t had to set up his entire kit, just the elements of it that were unique to his setup.

“That sounds like a good plan.” Ross agreed. Once everything was packed away safely, they trekked to the nearest pub for an afternoon drink. Matty and Y/N/N took a seat up at the bar to sort out drinks for the group, while the other three found themselves a table to settle in at. The bartender who came over to serve the two of them seemed to have been having a dull day, because Matty noticed that as opposed to taking any orders, all he wanted to do was yap on about everything _except_ alcohol. ‘How’s your day been?’ ‘Where are you from?’ ‘What do you do?’ He knew that a Tuesday afternoon probably wasn’t a very busy time for a pub, but he wasn’t there to share his life story. And it didn’t help that despite his best attempt to usher things along and get his hard-earned drink, his present company was indulging this stranger.

He didn’t like how chatty this guy was being with her, and more importantly how chatty _she_ was being with _him_. The feeling of it sat weirdly in his chest and made him feel like the third wheel when celebrating his own achievement. He only had a limited amount time left if he was going to get her to fess up. Only a week left of the tour before they went back to their respective homes. Allowing her to flirt with bartenders was only going to hinder that. So, in an attempt to bring her thoughts back to where he wanted them, and perhaps to get a rise out of her, in the middle of their conversation he nonchalantly took her hand that had been sitting on top of the bar in his. There was a pause in her sentence as he did this while she tried to work out what he was playing at. She looked down at their hands in confusion, glancing over to Matty only to see him still scrolling through his phone resting in his other hand. They’d never held hands before, and this certainly didn’t seem like the time or place to suddenly start doing that. But despite this, the plan had worked in his favour.

“I, uh,” The bartended cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’ll go get those drinks, then.” He nodded. As soon as he walked away to get their drinks, Matty released her hand which she promptly pulled in closer to herself.

“The hell was that for?” She asked with a frown as soon as the bartender was out of earshot.

“What?” He asked without looking away from his phone.

“ _That_.” She repeated as she waved the hand in question in his direction to catch his attention.

“Oh.” He slipped his phone back into his pocket, finally turning to look at her. “I just felt like maybe you’d be wanting to get back to the guys to-”

“What gave you the impression that I’d want that?” She interrupted with a frown.

“I’d like to think I know a thing or two about your wants and desires.” Normally him saying something like that would’ve tripped her up, would’ve forced her to think carefully about what her next move was. It usually would’ve ticked the right boxes of flirty and self-assured. But the juxtaposition between this Matty and the one that she’d seen no more than an hour ago in the studio was too startling. To go from genuine to cocky so quickly, the 180 practically gave her whiplash. And thinking that he had the right to make that call on her behalf, even if she _was_ just being friendly and patient with the bartender? If he was chasing a reaction out of her, he was certainly about to get one. 

“You don’t know what I want.” She fired at him. The tone in her voice hadn’t been what he was expecting, but it didn’t click until it was too late.

“I think I do.” He shot back. She could tell that he was trying to work that lilt of electric confidence into his tone, but that wasn’t going to work. He’d already said more than enough. Those four words pushed her over the edge. She’d felt like maybe Matty was getting somewhere with being an overall more sincere person to be around, but it turned out that he was still pulling the same shit as what he was months ago to get attention.

“It’s entirely unfair of you to decide what I want when you don’t even know what _you_ want.” She spat back, the venom thick in her tone as she pushed herself back from the bar and headed towards the bathroom.

_Oh no_. Again. He had gone and fucked it up _again_. He had been doing so well and now the pieces of his plan quickly shattered around him. He was fucking up one of the best friendships he’d ever had, all for a brief attempt at attention seeking. _Fuck_. He pulled a hand through his hair in frustration as he tried to think of a quick and easy way to backtrack – but there was no rewind for this. There was no rewind to fix those times when his egotistical impulsiveness shone through. What had seemed like a good idea only left him feeling worse. One negative feeling had just been replaced by a far stronger one. What was worse, was that he’d also roped her into his never-ending cycle of feeling shitty. He approached his friends sitting at their table towards the back of the bar, hoping that maybe they could offer some insight into how he could fix this.

“Guys, I-”

“Sort it out.” George interrupted, not caring to hear Matty go on a fifteen-minute-long explanation of whatever he’d done wrong. He’d seen Y/N/N walk away from the bar in a huff, and she gave that boy _endless_ chances for whatever reason. To make her leave, Matty must’ve been a proper wanker.

“But-”

“You did it, you fix it.” He said with a dismissive hand wave. Ross and Adam just threw him apologetic looks, not overly wanting to get involved either.

Their time at the bar had, unsurprisingly, come to an abrupt close after that. Once they’d finished their first round in a state of awkward chit chat, everyone seemed in mutual agreement that it was time to go. Matty mostly remained in his own head as he drank, trying to think of how to make up for what he’d done, and if he wasn’t gonna talk about it, neither was she. Once they left the bar, they headed back to their hotel that had been booked for the night. A minor perk of having more than one show in a single city, other than potential days off, was that they didn’t have to stay on the bus. This was a huge relief to George, Ross and Adam as they all struggled to fit comfortably in bus bunks. Pretty much as soon as she had closed her hotel room door behind her, she’d received a text from the offending frontman. Part of her wanted to ignore it, but morbid curiosity got the better of her.

_5:23pm Will you be free in an hour?_

**5:24pm Why?**

_5:26pm Room 406_

**5:26pm What makes you think that I’m free?**

_5:30pm Are you saying that you’re not?_

_5:35pm Room 406 in an hour_

Against her better judgement, she begrudgingly did as requested and went to his room for six thirty. Despite that she was still mad at him for being such an ass, at the end of the day he was her friend and she didn’t want to end this time with him feeling resentful. As she reached out to knock on his door, she saw that it was slightly ajar. She pushed it open, calling out his name as she took a few cautious steps inside. The standard hotel room couch that was against the far wall in her room had been dragged over to be in front of the TV, the duvet was pulled off of the bed and draped over the back of it, and there was a bowl of popcorn sitting on the TV unit. “What is this?” She asked as her brows furrowed in confusion. An all too familiar curly mop of hair stuck its head around the corner as she said that.

“This… is me trying to make up for being a bit of a knob earlier.” He explained, making his way over to the other side of the couch. “I know that I took a genuine thing and twisted it into something insincere and selfish. I thought that we could pull a movie up on the telly and maybe have a couple of drinks? Quiet night in. Just us.” He offered.

“Well, the movie sounds okay, I guess.” She started as she looked at the selection screen that he’d already pulled up on the TV. “But I think I’m over drinking for today.”

“That’s, erm, fair enough,” He nodded. In hindsight, he probably could’ve predicted that. But he’d been a bit roped up during the last hour trying to think of what best to say. Not that he’d made much progress on that front, either. “Sorry, I make excuses to drink when I’m nervous.” He added sheepishly as he scratched at the back of his neck.

She watched him with curiosity as he took a seat on the couch, motioning for her to sit down next to him. A few moments passed as she considered the offer. How fast he was jumping from sincere to arrogant today was unsettling. She felt like she was going around in circles in her head. “No funny business. I promise.” He said, holding his hand over his heart for emphasis.

She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to scope out if he was telling the truth. “Okay…” She eventually conceded as she sat down. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side as he started scrolling through movie options. At first, she went to move back from him. Experience, and forewarning from Adam, probably should’ve been enough to stop her from falling too much into this. But… She had to admit that it was pretty cold this time of year, and Matty was pretty damn warm. And it was _nice_. It was nice that he was trying to make up for his shitty actions with kind ones. It was nice that he had made an effort to try and cover up his usual smell of cigarette smoke and weed with hotel room soap, even if it didn’t quite do the trick. Spending time with just him was nice. The companionship, minus the bullshit and the charade they had going on sometimes, was sorely needed for the both of them. It had been quite a while since Matty had someone in his life that he could be like this with and he didn’t want to fuck that up. He supposed that the guys probably wouldn’t complain if he did it to them, but that wouldn’t really give the same effect. This felt comforting. It melted her resolve for being mad at him, and steeled his about how much time he wanted to spend around her. But he avoided thinking about the warm feeling in his chest too much. At the moment, he was trying to be apologetic and genuine. And this moment - this moment of the two of them sitting on the couch in quiet discussion over what movie to kill their time with - he suddenly realised was about as genuine as he had felt in a long time.

For once it wasn’t fake, or a staged situation that he had fabricated to work in his favour. It was real. Which should have been worrying. Past Matthew Healy would’ve either needed to put up false pretenses to feel in control or would’ve just straight up escaped from it. But this felt strangely like where he was meant to be. He wasn’t entirely sure when he started feeling like he was past _that_ point in his life. That point where he moped around, being depressed and dwelling on past mistakes that he couldn’t fix. Altering situations until he felt in control of them. Where he spent 90% of his time putting up a front so that people didn’t constantly ask him how he was doing and then he had to _think_ about how he was doing. But somewhere along the lines in the last few months, he had stopped having that dread that he wasn’t doing the correct thing. That he had fucked something up, or was on the verge of it. He felt like maybe he was finally… on the right track? He glanced at the girl sitting next to him. Maybe the company had done him a lot better than he expected it to. He had hoped it would be enough of a distraction that he could at least not think about his depressed state of mind for a little while. What he hadn’t anticipated was that the company would pull him out of that state of mind entirely. The sudden realisation that he was actually doing okay these days was quite surprising.

“Are you gonna pick a movie?” She asked as she looked up at him, only to catch him looking back at her instead of at the TV. “What?”

“Thanks.” He blurted out.

“For?” She frowned.

“Hanging out with this loser for a whole tour.” He answered with a chuckle. “You didn’t have to come out here. You don’t have to put up with me like you do. I know I said it once before, but company makes things a lot easier for me. Five weeks with you…” He paused, actually looking somewhat… embarrassed? “It’s done me a lot of good, I think.” He finally admitted. 

He really was taking this attempt at making up for being a dickhead earlier seriously. “It’s, uh,” She cleared her throat to try and regain her mental composure. “It was in my best interests to take up the offer. So, it’s really nothing.”

“Not to me, it’s not.” He replied casually. He dropped the subject after that, turning his attention back to what movie they were meant to be watching. The two of them settled into a comfortable silence, happy to let the atmosphere between them speak for itself. Hearing his steady heartbeat as she leaned into him was like a metronome, like white noise, the sound of it was enough to stabilise her thoughts after such a chaotic day. It wasn’t long before the two of them passed out. She’d woken up eventually to see the TV that they had fallen asleep watching still playing. Matty’s arm was also still draped around her waist, though the two of them had slid quite a bit further down the couch than how they were originally sitting. After some careful shuffling to retrieve her phone without disturbing him, she discovered that it was nearly two in the morning. It was probably in her best interests to move over to an actual bed instead of spending the night on a hotel room couch. Work for the show tomorrow would be difficult if she couldn’t bend her neck to the left. She started to sit up, pulling herself up on the couch slightly and moving to swing her legs over the side. But she was quickly stopped in her tracks when a deep voice broke the silence.

“Stay.” She heard Matty mumble quietly as his arm tightened around her. She was unsure that she’d heard him right. “Please.” He added, just above a whisper. Had she not been looking right at him as he said it, she would’ve missed it. She _was_ still rather tired, and the couch _was_ pretty comfortable. Who was she to deny him such a simple request?

* * *

Matty woke up the next morning with a hell of a stiff neck and a feeling that he desperately needed to crack his left knee, but he somehow felt more well rested than what he had in months. The fogginess slowly cleared from his brain as his eyes refocused on the TV in front of him. But before he had the chance to stretch out his aching limbs, Y/N/N beat him to the punch and sat up, reaching her arms up above her head with a loud yawn.

“I’m sorry, about yesterday.” He muttered; his voice still hoarse with sleep.

“I know,” She nodded as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “I’m sorry, too.” She added, flashing a small smile in his direction. The band had a show later that day, but Matty was pretty sure that he had an interview in the next couple of hours.

“I have to start getting ready.” He sighed, sitting up slightly on the couch. “I’ve got somewhere to be before midday.”

“Well, thank you for last night.” She said as she watched him stand up.

“It’s cool.” He shrugged. “I’m gonna go back to being a flirtatious piece of shit now, okay? But _not_ a dickhead.” He punctuated that last point with a serious look. She just stared at him, waiting for him to continue. “It’s easier.” He shrugged. _Easier than what?_ But there wasn’t much time to ponder that, because he made short work of getting ready and when left to her own devices it only made sense for her to head back to her own room to do the same. By ten that morning Matty was on his way to his interview, and the other four members of their posse found a nice café nearby to have breakfast in.

Y/N/N found herself sat at a small table in said café with George, watching quietly as he fiddled around on his laptop. Adam and Ross had elected to kill some time in the record store next door, having already eaten this morning. But this was of no worry to them, because it was always nice to hang out with George one on one. He had such a down to earth personality and he was exceedingly good at keeping those around him calm and level-headed. However, at the moment she could see the concentration and slight stress in his features as he tried to wrap his head around what he was working on.

“How’s the track going?” She asked after a few moments.

“It’s… going.” He laughed as he took a sip of his coffee. “I’m piecing together those bits we recorded yesterday. Slow but sure progress.” He nodded.

“How’s it sounding?” She clarified. He shuffled around the table slightly so that she could get a view of the screen.

“Why don’t you tell me?” He asked as he slipped the headset off and handed it to her. “I’m trying to sort out a few of the production kinks. So, what do you reckon, this?” He played a snippet of the track. She listened carefully, trying to pick up the nuances of it. It sounded good. “Or this?” He played the same snippet again but she could hear a few minor changes this time. But to determine the _exact_ differences was hard. It reminded her of being at an eye exam when the optometrist asked you if you preferred slide one or slide two and to you, they felt more or less the same.

“I, uh…” She handed the headset back as she tried to think of a reasonable response. It was a struggle to try and give him a straight answer. “They’re both good?” She eventually offered. “I’m sorry, I’m probably not the person to ask.” She added with a laugh.

“It’s all right.” He chuckled. “I’ll get the boys to look over it with me later.” He said with a shrug as a waiter brought their meals over. It was as good a time as any for a break, so he shut his laptop and left that work for later. 

With the rest of the band busy enjoying their late breakfast at the café, Matty had been forced out to a one on one interview at some local venue. It bothered him every now and again that certain interviewers only ever wanted to chat to him, and not the whole band. After all, he’d be nowhere if not for them. He wished that he could get away with being the quiet one, the one who just got to sit there and zone out. But he’d signed his fate in this band long ago. Everyone knew by now that he was the charismatic loud mouth who had all the answers (or just talked until people forgot the original question). So, he made himself somewhat presentable and went out to the theatre that the interviewer wanted to meet him at. It was set to be a quick, video interview which worked well for him. Rock up, yap on a bit about the band, smile at the camera, be back in time for a joint before soundcheck.

“So, we had a list sent in to us of a bunch of questions relating to each of the songs from your first self-titled album. Would you mind if we asked some?” The interviewer asked, flipping over to the next page in her notebook.

“Go for it.” He shrugged, pushing back into the wall he was leaning against.

“The question for The City: If you could fall in love in any city, what would it be and why?” She asked as she held the mic out to him.

“London. It’s probably my favourite city.” He answered with a firm nod.

“The one for Money is: Have you ever taken drugs?” She questioned, looking across at him.

“Yes.” He answered bluntly, trying his best not to roll his eyes. He was fairly certain that was pretty common knowledge at this point in his very public personal life.

“For Chocolate: Do you have a problem with authority?”

He snorted a laugh before answering, “Yes.”

“Heart Out: Do you have feelings for someone and wish they were reciprocated?” She asked.

He opened his mouth to answer with the default response but the words seemed to stall in his throat. His answer was _going_ to be ‘no’, but the more he thought about it the more he realised that _might_ be lying. Technically the bet he had was all about getting someone to reciprocate feelings. It was kind of the entire point. “Uh… yeah.” He said with a nod, hoping that she didn’t pry any more on the matter.

She let out an interested ‘ooo’ and he couldn’t help but grimace slightly at what he knew was about to come. “Would you pursue these feelings?” The interviewer asked with curiosity.

He thought on that for a moment. Strictly speaking, the bet was quite literally a case of pursuing them. But he was certain that she meant pursuing them in a more relationship-wise sort of way and less in the way that he was going about it. The more he thought on this, the more he found himself feeling nervous about his answer. It had been a long time since he’d been properly close with someone, especially in any capacity like last night. It was probably just that. Just circumstance. And he had an inkling that if he dwelled on it for too long, he’d lose his motivation for the bet and he _knew_ that he was only ever getting closer by the day. “Maybe in a more forgiving set of social circumstances.” He answered eventually.

She continued on without saying anything else on the topic, “This one is for Sex: Have you ever been with someone who already had a partner?” She asked. He let out a sigh of relief that they had moved away from a topic he was trying to avoid investing too much thought in before answering the question.

“The person who wrote this list does know that I wrote these songs, yeah?” He laughed loudly. “Like, they’re about _me_. You can assume that they’re from my perspective.” The interviewer scrapped the remaining questions on the list after that and let him get back to his day. He went back. He smoked his joint. He soundchecked. He hung out with his friends. He played a show. He continued about the usual tour routine. But the realisation was starting to settle in that they only had three shows left. Only six days until the tour was over. Matty felt like time was closing in on him.

The next day as they drove to the third to last show, he found himself sitting in the back lounge - his [feet up on the seat next to him,](https://scontent.fper5-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/122825352_10218397763639606_8964518950258101793_n.jpg?_nc_cat=100&ccb=2&_nc_sid=0debeb&_nc_ohc=22WNrjPKXWkAX-YU8aw&_nc_ht=scontent.fper5-1.fna&oh=41fb0b1e99578f665113a14cbd9167fa&oe=5FBB6F3A) watching the rain trickle down the glass and the road pass behind them. His mind kept being dragged back to that question he had been asked in the interview. He’d always held an interest in Y/N/N, that much he was well aware of since the day that they’d met. But since he’d gotten so roped up in his determination to get her to confess her feelings, he’d lost sight of his own. Whenever she’d asked him back in that bar what his end game was, he had said that he didn’t know. At the time that seemed like a reasonable enough answer, his state of mind wasn’t the best and he wasn’t in a position to be committing to _anything_ new, much less a relationship. And he’d done his best to make sure that she was aware of that so that he didn’t feel like he was putting her under false pretenses. But it had been months now, he’d come to realise he was in a much more stable place mentally and emotionally, and yet he _still_ didn’t have any true direction. What was he going to do once she told him? He needed an answer. Soon. The tour had less than a week left. He was knocked out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps approaching behind him.

“What’re you doin’, Matt?” George asked as he leaned against the door frame.

“Just vibin’.” He shot back. The drummer rolled his eyes. “Being contemplative.” He elaborated with a shrug, taking a sip of the tea sitting in his lap.

“About?” He asked, stepping into the room and taking a seat opposite his friend.

“To say what you want – it’s hard, innit?” George knew better than to answer a rhetorical question like that and instead waited for Matty continue. “I’ve spent so much of my life thinking about the future and worrying about stuff. Worrying about shit that I can’t change. And I’m starting to feel like maybe I should be worrying about the things that I can.”

George could sense where this conversation was going. That Matty was getting close to the realisation that his feelings for Y/N/N were considerably less superficial than he gave them credit for. He wasn’t sure what had brought on this epiphany in his best friend, but the vibe of this conversation was telling him that he was on the right track to sorting out his own head. A little voice in the back of his mind reminded him of that bet that he had made with Adam and Ross. Was now his chance to let Matty in on the secret that everyone else knew? Or should he let his friend work his way there himself?

“I think that maybe you need to think about how far you’ve come, mate.” He resigned with a sigh. Letting Matty come to the discovery himself was probably going to be the best course of action. “You’re not the same person that you were ten years ago, even if you still make similarly dumb mistakes from time to time. What mattered to you then might not be the same things that you want to take into your future.”

Matty looked back over at his friend with a confused frown, hearing in his voice George wasn’t giving him all of the information that he had. “What’re you getting’ at?” He asked as George stood up.

“Consider what makes you happy, work your way up from there.” He explained, patting his friend’s shoulder as he walked back out of the back lounge. 

* * *

George’s advice perhaps could’ve been slightly… more blunt, and to the point. Because what Matty found makes him happy was often instant gratification. And what he wanted most at this _exact_ moment was to win that damn bet. There was one show left on their tour before everyone headed back home. One show to get her to crack. He had to pull out all of the stops if he was going to make this count. But this was what he had spent the last six weeks working out. What were the best things to get a reaction – what worked and what didn’t. Now was his time to shine and prove that he wasn’t just blindly fumbling in the dark. It was a few hours before they were set to play, stage setup was done, merch was set up. He was pretty certain that the majority of his friends were on the bus waiting for soundcheck. Now was the time. Matty sent her a text to come to the green room to help him out with something and then waited patiently. He worried slightly when he hadn’t received a reply at first, but within a few minutes he heard footsteps approaching. This was it. Show time.

“Yeah, what’s-” Her sentence suddenly wasn’t able to complete itself and she had to do a double take as she caught sight of the man in front of her. Matty was leaning against the table in the middle of the green room, cigarette in hand, staring lazily down at his phone sitting on his knee. For whatever reason he hadn’t bothered to button up the suit shirt that he was wearing, and his hair looked like he hadn’t touched it in days. He was even wearing the same ripped jeans she’d seen him wear at the last show. It was possibly one of the most casual looks that she had seen him in of late, and she fucking _hated_ that despite this, he looked hot as hell. She hated it even more that he was almost definitely well aware of this information and probably also _well_ aware of the way that it was making the synapses in her brain short out. He glanced up eventually, letting the smoke out of his lungs and putting his cigarette out in the ash tray sitting next to him.

“Can I ask a favour of you?” He asked as he pushed himself up off of the table. That annoying level confidence that he seemed to radiate was practically like static electricity in the room.

“Anythi-“ She started, before clearing her throat anxiously and trying to get her thoughts together. Her brain seemed to have just fallen right out of her skull as she crossed the threshold into this room. “I mean, uh-” And it was extremely hard to concentrate on finding it again with Matty approaching her looking like that. “yeah. What’s up?” She asked, deciding to look at the ground instead.

His index finger came to rest under her chin before pulling her gaze back up to his. _Fuck_. Having to look into his chocolate brown eyes when he was acting like this, it made this whole situation all too difficult to resist. He leaned in slightly closer before speaking. “If I were trying to impress a girl who would be watching the show tonight, do you think that this would suffice?”

“Absolutely.” She blurted out without thinking.

“Good to know.” He chuckled as he brushed past her and out the door of the green room. She turned around, looking in the direction that he had gone in confusion. What had just happened? Surely that ordeal wasn’t coincidental? The tone in his voice was too suggestive for any of that to have been a fluke. He’d intentionally caught her interest and then left her drooling over him. _Why would-_ suddenly it clicked. That cocky bastard fucking _knew_ that he had won, and he just walked away. He didn’t even press the topic of the bet at all. “See you at soundcheck.” His voice echoed back down the hallway. _That absolute fucker_. Unfortunately for her, six weeks trapped in close quarters with Matthew Healy had done exactly what she had predicted it might. It made her feelings for him _so much worse_. Tonight was going to be difficult. She was unsure if her heart rate would be able to survive through soundcheck, let alone nearly two hours of watching him on stage. Maybe she could just skip the show? No, he’d definitely find a way for her to be there. By the time she’d finished psyching herself up to tolerate a couple of songs in soundcheck, the band were nearly ready to go.

As she walked up to the barrier of the pit, she heard Matty call her name. “Watch this.” Matty grinned, making a motion to the rest of the band. _Do I have to?_ The familiar starting notes of The Sound started filling the empty stadium. Of course. _Of course_. Should she really have expected any less of him than to play this song? The annoying thing was that in this frame of mind and with him… like _that_ , she couldn’t do anything _but_ watch him. His direct interaction with her as they ran through the song was minimal, instead he racked his brain for the things that he’d done on stage in the past that he’d caught her watching. And it worked a treat. Her attention was trained on him the entire time. As the song came to an end, her brain felt absolutely fried. He must’ve recognised her half-dazed state because he jumped down into the space between the barrier and the stage to put the final nail in the coffin. He leant across the metal railing, and for a brief moment she thought he might’ve been about to kiss her. She was pretty certain that she might spontaneously combust if he did.

“You could just tell me, you know.” He whispered. Her heart hammered against her ribcage as she tried to compose her thoughts. After a few seconds he moved back, meeting her gaze and seeing how flustered she was.

“Fuck you.” She mumbled with her last hint of tenacity and desire to win a futile bet, tearing her eyes away from him to look behind him at the screens on the stage.

“You could if you’d like.” He quipped with a knowing look. She was suddenly dragged back to the weekend that she’d met him. That damn radio interview he’d pulled her into. It was nearly five months ago now since he’d pulled that stunt on her. Had it really been that long..? “Suit yourself, love.” He said with a chuckle as he hopped back up on stage.


	10. It Took a Little While to Recognise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was heavily inspired by [this tune](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-v640PiMt_o)

By the time he walked off of the stage that night, her brain was mush. He really did seem to know how to push her buttons and the amount of effort that it had taken to not cave all day to his tormenting was starting to take its toll. She should just tell him. Just tell him that she was, indeed, into him and then she could go back to living a normal life without Matty hell bent on destroying what little remained of her willpower. Hell, maybe she would even get something out of that obnoxious boy in exchange. That might be nice. It would probably be the straw that breaks the camel’s back and sends her into a coma, but it would be nice until then. However, before she even had the chance to find Matty in the green room after the show, Ross informed her that he’d already gone back to the bus. And by the time they’d gotten back to the bus, celebrations of ending the tour were already in full swing and the man of the hour was being pulled in every which direction. It irritated her that by the time she was finally in a mental state to _want_ to get it over with and just tell him, she couldn’t. But, for Matty, that was the whole intention. He had realised while he was on stage for the final show that his solution to not knowing what to do when she finally told him, was to not let the bet end when the tour did. If he could draw it out, he had a reason to draw out their time together. Even if the bet felt dumb at this point, it was his best reason to ask her to stay in his life. What excuse did he have once he didn’t have that? Nothing. And the thought of not getting to see her anymore stung a lot more than the thought of not winning the bet. So, this would have to do. He’d avoid her until they went back home and then play dumb about it. That sounded reasonable enough. Which left her ending up deciding to hang out with the other friends that she had made on tour for the rest of the night instead, much to her displeasure.

But just like that, tour was over. She’d survived. Matty hadn’t won the bet. She got her pay packet for the merch work that she had done. Her bags were packed. It was time to go home. The flight that she had to catch to get back home was leaving sooner than Matty’s was, which left her with the awkward situation of having to be the first to say goodbye. Most of her proper farewells with the band and crew had been exchanged last night at their closing party; that way she didn’t have to try and get around to seeing all of them before a mid-morning flight. But other than still being a bit bitter about not seeing much of Matty last night, she didn’t overly _want_ to say goodbye either. Saying goodbye was hard. Especially to someone who you didn’t want to leave, but also didn’t want to admit to them that you didn’t want to leave them. It was literally as she was standing on the street, waiting for her taxi with her bags in hand that she finally realised she had no time left to continue putting it off.

“It, uh…” She turned to the boy beside her, trying desperately to find half-decent sounding words. Should she tell him now? It didn’t feel like the right time. There probably _would’ve_ been a ‘right’ time last night if Matty wasn’t so annoyingly popular. But it was too late for that now.

She let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding as she finally just bit the bullet. “Thanks for inviting me out on tour. It was really fun.” She said, trying to give him a genuine smile despite finding the moment quite bittersweet.

“I’m really glad you came out. Was nice havin’ you here.” He nodded as he took a drag on his cigarette. There was a lot more that he wanted to say, but he needed more time to think on the most eloquent way to express those thoughts.

The silence hung between them for a moment. “So… um…” A deflated sigh was all she could muster as she watched her taxi roll up to the curb. “Guess this-”

“I’ll see you soon.” He interrupted, dropping his smoke onto the ground and extinguishing it with his shoe.

 _Will you_? “Oh, okay. Cool.” She finished, unable to stop herself from grinning a little bit at the thought. “In which case, see you then.” She chuckled as she hugged him briefly. He hugged her back tightly, trying not to dwell on it too much. As he moved back, he flashed her a bright grin, before wishing her a safe flight and watching her cab drive away.

It was difficult for Matty to stamp his progressively harder to ignore feelings into the dirt and just disregard everything until after she had left. But he felt that if he made this tour as final as it was about to be, then that’d be it for their friendship. And as much as he struggled to work out exactly what he wanted; he knew he _definitely_ didn’t want that. So, he said his half-goodbye, packed his bags and flew home with his friends hoping that he could work through all of his messy thoughts in the comfort of his own home. Except, his thoughts only seemed to end up even more muddled as everything gradually came crashing down around him over the next week after arriving at home. He knew that he’d been giving a few mixed messages in their last 48 hours together, but despite that he had sort of expected to hear her from her a decent bit within the few days after they got home. What he hadn’t expected was radio silence. He’d received a few messages from her when she landed, confirming that she was at home safe and sound, and then nothing. No texts. No calls. No social media posts. Nothing. She had mysteriously dropped off the face of the planet. Even her last online times had been offline for so long that they no longer displayed anything. It wasn’t like her. Had he been wrong in hoping that their social withdrawal would be mutual? It was slightly easier to deal with the lack of company when he had been expecting it to drop off a bit, but it still wasn’t sitting great overall that he had been forced to give it up cold turkey. He didn’t want to say that he was worried about her per se, it was just very uncharacteristic and it had him on edge. He had to keep himself distracted. 

So, he hung out with the band as much as he could, caught up with family, saw friends. Anything and everything he could think of to do now that he was back at home - he crammed into his schedule. But it was at night when his thoughts plagued him the worst. When his friends finally went to bed and he was left by himself, scrolling through his phone. What had he done wrong? It was after about six days of no contact that a photo had been put up on Instagram that she was tagged in. He frowned down at his phone as he opened it. It was a photo of her with some dude in a field somewhere. They were looking awfully… close. Matty inspected the photo carefully. They weren’t kissing, or hugging, or doing anything couple-y, but they were both clearly having lots of fun. Was this why she hadn’t spoken to him in days? Because she was off with some guy she was seeing? As soon as the thought entered in mind, he felt like the floor had been ripped out from under him. He clicked on the uploader’s profile; it was the guy that she was with. But his account didn’t exactly reveal who he was. It was just a few photos of various shows that he had been at, a heap of fancy beers and photos of some dog. Who was this guy? Was she dating him? Had she been dating him for a while? His mind quickly spiralled down the rabbit hole of endless questions as he stared at the photo.

Where did he fuck it all up? He had thought he was doing fairly well. Things seemed to be falling into place and he felt like he was on the verge of getting her to actually admit her feelings for him. But… Wait… _Did_ she have feelings for him? Was the reason she hadn’t told him because she actually didn’t? Surely not. He eyed the notebook sitting on his coffee table. More often than not what he wrote down in that was a lot more thoughtful than he felt it was at the time of writing. Maybe something he had written down would give him a clue. As he flicked through the book, he felt like maybe he could find the answers scrawled into the pages. Had he missed something? Was there something he wasn’t picking up on? But everything in it just seemed… happy. Was the photo just all in his head? Or were the last six months all in his head? He couldn’t really tell, and he didn’t exactly have her around to verify the answers right now. Normally she was very good at keeping him grounded so that he didn’t spiral out about things like this. But she wasn’t here. And she wasn’t talking to him. And the burning in his chest suggested that maybe this was why. He stood up and made his way into his kitchen, rifling through his cupboard. There was a bottle of cheap vodka sitting in the back of it somewhere, he knew it, and he needed something to numb this sinking feeling. He found the bottle, screwing the cap off and letting it fall to the floor as he took [a swig of it](https://scontent.fper5-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/122858096_10218397761439551_5192967686671497015_n.jpg?_nc_cat=107&ccb=2&_nc_sid=0debeb&_nc_ohc=heflz_NIFEkAX8xgWw_&_nc_ht=scontent.fper5-1.fna&oh=7ed9d2f829f7c36ee03d7c15fc5e4117&oe=5FBA6DBD). Really, nobody was to blame for this except himself. He supposed he was just the boy who cried wolf, wasn’t he? He kept dangling the carrot just out of reach. Kept stringing her along without any indication whether he was reeling that string in or going to cut it. Why should she believe that he was anything worth holding out for when he’d never actually proven it? As much as he liked to think he walked that fine line well, he just couldn’t seem to get it right. He’d taken too long to work out what he wanted and she’d finally given up. _Fuck_. He took another swig from the bottle. It felt like the vodka wasn’t working, he wanted to feel better but he just wasn’t feeling anything.

* * *

The door slowly clicked open as George turned the handle. He’d been trying to call Matty for the last hour and had no response, so he figured it would probably be best to check in on his friend. As he opened the front door, he spied the curly haired boy lying on his kitchen floor, next to a mostly empty bottle of vodka. “Hey Matty…” He started slowly. “What are you doing?” George asked carefully, taking a few apprehensive steps towards him.

Matty let out a long sigh before answering, “Moping.”

“About what?” He asked with an eyebrow raised as he pulled a chair over to sit near him. He grabbed his phone off of the floor and held it out to George, knowing full well that it would still be open on the picture. George looked at it for a few moments in silent contemplation before speaking, “Who is he?”

“Dunno.” He mumbled.

“Then how do you know it’s anything worth worrying about?” He asked as he locked it and handed it back.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” He huffed, leaning up on his elbows to look at the drummer better. “I haven’t given her any reason to keep on waiting for me to sort my shit out. I’m just the asshole who can’t make up his damn mind. Surely she’s been able to find a guy in the time it’s taken her to work out that I’m a lost cause.” Matty scratched at his forearm as he spoke. George watched the movement carefully.

“You taken anything?” He asked bluntly.

“No. You’d already know if I had.” The more he spoke; the more George was able to hear the slur in Matty’s words. That bottle must’ve been full when he started. But it was better than the alternative. He picked it up, taking it into the kitchen and tipping the rest out. He certainly didn’t need any more hard liquor tonight.

“Why don’t you just, y’know, ask her?” George questioned with a pointed look as he walked back over and stared down at his friend, deciding to skip over the self-deprecating comments. The silence hung heavy in the room.

“She hasn’t spoken to me in a few days.” He eventually admitted.

“What did you do?” He wanted to be mad that _that_ was the first question George asked, but it was a pretty fair accusation to make. Matty had accidentally fucked up his fair share of relationships through his antics. He’d also fucked up plenty intentionally, as well.

“Nothing!” He said defensively. “I think.” He added with a frown. “I hope.” He said quietly as he ran his hands down his face.

“Well… it sounds like maybe you need to have a chat with her, and make sure you _haven’t_ blown it somehow.” He pointed out. Matty just groaned loudly as he flopped back onto the floor. George nudged the frontman with his foot to get his attention. He waited until he was looking at him to speak, “And _if_ you haven’t, you probably need to reconsider that bit about not having your mind made up. Because it seems pretty fuckin’ made up to me, mate.” Matty didn’t really seem to register the comment. The gears seemed to be turning behind his eyes, but it didn’t look like anything clicked into place. Maybe it would be a conversation better had in the morning. “But in the meantime, c’mon.” He held his hand out to help Matty up. “Let’s get out of here.”

George took him to the bar down the street, forcing him to drink a glass of water between every drink and to eat the bowl of peanuts sitting on the table. As much as the conversation and company were nice, it didn’t fully pull Matty out of his thoughts. He felt like his mind was playing tricks on him. Surely everything couldn’t have just been in his head. He hadn’t felt this conflicted in a long time, and the last time he had, he had pretty unhealthy ways of getting his brain to shut up about it. The mildly healthier coping mechanisms that he had been relying on recently suddenly weren’t talking to him. Though, he never really told her anything about that, so he was the only one at fault for the lack of it now. He felt like if he told her how much he depended on her being around then it would make her realise that he wasn’t coping as well as everyone told him he was. Which might mean that she’d leave. Had he forgotten how to be alone? Maybe he should tell her. Maybe it would make her talk to him.

Eventually he excused himself from the table, telling George that he was going to the bathroom. He stepped out through the back door of the bar, feeling the cold night air hit his face as he glanced around the alley. It was thankfully empty. Before he could think too much about it, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialled her number. If he could just speak to her, she could fix this. He was dying to hear her voice. But as expected, there was no answer. It rang out and went to voicemail.

“I, uh…” He started thinking about what he wanted to say. He had a million things he wanted to tell her, but a million things wouldn’t fit in a voicemail message. And what did they matter? It didn’t matter how much he wished she was here, because she wasn’t here. She was never his, as much as he pretty much felt like it, so he really had no right to be so torn up about the thought of her leaving. And she didn’t have to be here, because her purpose in life wasn’t to look after this junkie wannabee musician. “Actually, don’t worry.” He slurred with a sigh. She didn’t have to deal with this, he didn’t have any right to dump his 2am drunken thoughts on her. “Goodnight. Never mind.” He hung up the phone, sliding it back into his pocket and pushing his way back into the bar for another drink.

* * *

The next day he woke up to a missed call less than half an hour old. Had she finally decided to talk to him? He frowned down at his phone, wondering why _now_ and mulling it over for a few moments. Should he call back straight away? His mouth felt like ash, he had a splitting headache and he felt pretty nauseous, but those were all things that he could hide somewhat well through a phone conversation. After a few passing moments, he decided to call back. He had spent most of last night feeling like shit for being the jerk who kept stringing her along, he figured it was probably time to start showing some reciprocation. Assuming he still had the chance. It was a few rings before she picked it up.

“Hey!” She answered enthusiastically. He winced at the instant reaction he had to hearing her voice. He forgot how much he missed this.

“Hi.” He replied, clearing his throat nervously, “How’re you?” He continued, trying to keep it as casual as he could manage.

“Yeah, good! Tired, though. The festival was really great but it’s such long days to work.” She answered.

“The…” He frowned as he played those words over in his head again. “The what?”

“The music festival. The one out in the country that I told you I was working this weekend. I didn’t have any reception out there; it was so boring whenever we weren’t working.” She said these sentences like they meant nothing, but they suddenly made everything in Matty’s brain make sense.

“Oh. _Oh_. _That_ music festival, yeah.” He lied with a laugh as he scratched at the side of messy curls, trying to remember when she had told him about that. “Who was playing again?” As she started rattling off the setlist, the information came back to him. He hadn’t committed that festival to memory because he hadn’t known any of those band names. “Were they any good?” He asked offhandedly, trying to keep the conversation light.

“I didn’t really catch many sets; we were pretty flat out.” She answered.

Silence filled the call as he planned his next move. He figured this was his in to try and work out who she had been with. If he knew who he was up against, maybe he could prove he was better. “So… Who were you out there with?” He asked with as much nonchalance in his voice as he could muster.

“There were a couple of people I knew that I worked the show with last year. It was good to catch up with them. Um… my manager was one of my brother’s friends from high school. He’s really nice, sorted out a holiday house for all of us and gave me a lift to and from the show. Oh, and my brother of course.” Her _brother_. Bloody hell. He had never actually met him, had he? It all made sense now. That explained the closeness in the photo without any actual intimacy. He found himself laughing at how quickly he had spiralled all that information into something it wasn’t. “What?” She asked, confused by the hysterics he was caught in.

“Nothing. Glad you had a good time.” He answered, finally feeling the weight lift from his shoulders.

“So, that voicemail you left-” She started, and just as quickly as it had left, that weight was right back on there. He left her a voicemail last night? _Fuck_. He didn’t remember that. What had he said? Could he pretend the call got cut off and reverse access voicemail messages? Probably not. “You never actually, y’know, said anything.” She laughed. _Phew_. “What was it that you called for?”

He thought about this for a few brief seconds. _Fuck the bet_. “Stay at mine this week.” He blurted out before he could think too hard on it.

Despite her initial surprise in the offer, she had ended up agreeing to fly over to London this weekend and stay at his place. For a week. In his home. With him. His mind fucking reeled at what he had just done. Both ends of the spectrum were running rampant through his brain. Things could potentially go very, very well, and maybe having her cooped up with him for a week would be amazing. Or, maybe it would go terribly and everything that had run through his brain last night would come true and suddenly his whole way of thinking for the last six months would turn out to all be wrong. As he laid in bed and tried to work his way through this existential tug-o-war, he eventually heard his bedroom door open. Before he could roll over to see who it was, he felt as massive weight start [crushing him into the mattress.](https://scontent.fper5-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/122812398_10218397761319548_6353469094592398912_n.jpg?_nc_cat=109&ccb=2&_nc_sid=0debeb&_nc_ohc=qoGFIfm67K4AX9qsjS9&_nc_ht=scontent.fper5-1.fna&oh=6abd44f28349a32fb5f89168d6e32081&oe=5FBDF941) _Now_ he knew who it was.

“George, get _off_ me.” He growled, his face pressed into the duvet. “Why are you even here?”

“I crashed here last night after we got back. How’re you feelin’?” George’s voice called out as he shuffled around a bit to get comfortable.

“I’d feel a lot- ow, fuck.” Matty yelped as he received an elbow to the ribs. “-lot better if you fucking stopped flattening me.” At that, his best friend rolled to the other side of the bed with a laugh and allowed Matty some space.

“Do you remember our talk from last night?” He asked as their conversation took a more serious tone. Through his groggy brain he tried his best to remind himself of what conversation he would be referring to, before remembering George’s words about his mind ‘already being made up’. He was right. Had Matty not been too caught up in his own ridiculous thought spirals, he might’ve seen it sooner. He couldn’t believe that he’d been mistaking his feelings for dependence for this long. But that was about to change.


	11. Might Stop (Me)You Bein' Miserable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter title really looks better when I can put the strikethrough in it like I can in Word...

Her flight arrived at close to midnight a few days after they had chatted on the phone. Despite his usual hatred of airports, Matty felt like going to one this time was going to be worth it a lot more than all of those other times that he had been forced to be in one. So, he drove himself down, threw a beanie over his messy hair, pushed his way through the crowd, and waited patiently at the arrivals terminal. He could feel the excitement bubbling away in his brain. The rough plan was to see how things went in the first couple of days, then if it went well to take her on a proper date and tell her then. George had helped him a bit with what would probably be the best plan of action, as his first suggestion of ‘why can’t I just tell her as soon as she steps off the plane’ probably wasn’t exactly suitable. As soon as he saw her step out of the gate, he couldn’t help the grin that split across his face. All of his worrying over the last two weeks melted away. He had forgotten how much of a visceral reaction she had over him.

It was safe to say that as much as she was expecting to see Matty at the gate this time, she _wasn’t_ expecting him to half-run over and pick her up in a hug when she was three steps into the terminal. It was strange after how evasive he had seemed only two weeks ago to see him now so clingy and open with how excited he was about her being in London with him. Not that she was complaining, she was just curious as to what had changed. He also seemed [oddly jovial ](https://66.media.tumblr.com/11f9432f696b2505ed43b6ab0d70cac7/tumblr_ojniwzLrSF1sldg5ro1_400.gifv)being in a place that he usually hated. It was also strange to see how _tired_ Matty looked in the airport. The bags under his eyes seemed to rival the weight of her luggage, and it looked like he [hadn’t shaved in a while](https://66.media.tumblr.com/4de07ec3c2bd06337e248ae930051baa/e23c16d1b4fa157b-f3/s400x600/b5c654e3506506952f3ece2972ac136423f9f3e9.jpg).

“Are you doing all right?” She asked in concern after their initial greetings.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” He shot back over his shoulder as he ushered her back towards his car.

“You just…” It was hard for her to pinpoint what was off. He seemed entirely happy and like his usual self, but physically he looked run down. “You look like you’re pretty worn out.”

“I’ve never been better.” He grinned.

On the way back to his place he talked about everything that had happened in the last couple of weeks, as well as everything that they were driving past (even though it wasn’t exactly easy to see these landmarks he was pointing out in the middle of the night) _and_ also everything he was excited to show her while she was here. He didn’t get hyperactive like this super often, but it was endearing to see him so enthusiastic. They reached his front door, and she heard him take in a deep breath as he turned the key in the lock.

“This is my humble abode.” He stated proudly as he swung the door open. They took a few steps inside as she looked around.

“It doesn’t look very _humble_ , Matty.” She noted, taking in the room. Everything was concrete. The floors, the walls, the ceilings, all of it. There were huge windows everywhere that she could only imagine let in a ridiculous amount of natural light during the day, the ceilings were very high with some exposed beams at the top, the decorating style was minimal but clearly to a certain refined and vintage sort of theme. “Minimalist maybe, but not humble.”

As she stepped into the lounge room, the overwhelming smell of weed hit her nostrils. “Good _lord_ , Matty. Are you trying to hotbox your house or something?”

He laughed loudly. “Sorry, I get used to it and forget other people aren’t.” He said as he opened a window. As the echo of pitter-pattering paws could be heard coming down the hallway, a massive smile found its way onto his face. “And this,” He started, turning in the direction of the sound. “is Allen!” He beamed as a [large brown dog ](https://scontent.fper5-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/122760693_10218397762599580_3462827741321137308_n.jpg?_nc_cat=102&ccb=2&_nc_sid=0debeb&_nc_ohc=JugAw0TTbWMAX8nBlrR&_nc_ht=scontent.fper5-1.fna&oh=e8d48de2a12bf973d4a8ae1db7b4dfab&oe=5FBB0BFB)rounded the corner excitedly. After some love and praise from his owner, the bullmastiff came bounding up to her.

“How do you go about having a dog when you’re on tour all the time?” She questioned in between greeting the overzealous pooch.

“My mate Sam looks after him whenever I’m away. Which is most of the time, really.” He laughed honestly. “But it’s nice to be able to steal him back for a bit when I’m home.”

Once Allen had calmed down about a new person being in the house, Matty continued his tour. Despite that it definitely wasn’t a house she’d ever consider buying herself, objectively it was a very nice place. It was very… ‘Matty’, for lack of a better adjective. Eventually they arrived at his bedroom, which was literally just a bed, two small bedside tables and a guitar sitting in the corner. There was a slightly awkward pause in their tour as she was reminded of the bags in her hands.

“So… uh… where am I sleeping?” She asked hesitantly.

He gave a short chuckle. “Your room is down here.” He said as he motioned down the hall. The spare room looked much the same as his, just it didn’t have an ensuite attached. “It’s pretty late, so I’ll let you get settled and get some rest. Give me a shout if you need anything.” She nodded a bit as she hauled her bags into the room. “Oh, and,” He started, waiting until she turned back to him before he continued, “you know I always have an open-door policy in effect for you, love.” He added with a wink, only getting an eye roll in response. “G’night!”

* * *

In the light of day, his house was very bright and inviting. She had crashed pretty quickly after he left her to go to sleep, but was woken up at about eight once the sunlight started streaming in through the massive window opposite her bed. As she got up and padded around the house looking for her friend, she got a better look at the way he chose to surround himself when he was at home. The décor matched Matty to a tee, and it was nice to finally see things that he regularly mentioned like his favourite books and his vinyl. She was greeted by Allen first, before she finally found him sitting in his small courtyard, an [open book sitting on his knee](https://scontent.fper5-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/122446284_10218397760519528_167971545107419246_n.jpg?_nc_cat=105&ccb=2&_nc_sid=0debeb&_nc_ohc=XnrJGdpGXBcAX8z4ePJ&_nc_ht=scontent.fper5-1.fna&oh=b45b526ed44eeba2cb79691fcb9928e6&oe=5FBBEC05) and a cup of tea in his hand. It reminded her of when she had been watching him in the studio a few weeks ago, he just seemed so peaceful and in his element. He glanced up as she approached the patio doorway.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t think you’d be up yet.” He smiled as he shut the book and put it on the table next to him. “I didn’t wanna wake you too early in case you were jetlagged.” He added as she took a seat next to him. The morning air was chilly, but sitting in the sun outside made it a lot more tolerable.

“Your house has too many windows for me to sleep in too much.” She chuckled. He nodded in understanding as he took a sip from his mug.

“I like it bright. Helps stop me from feeling overwhelmed about being cooped up and stuck inside when I’m at home for long periods.” He explained with a shrug.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” She asked.

“I figured I could show you around a bit, and then I think the guys are wanting to come ‘round in the evening. They’re super keen to have you here, too.” He suggested, that eager smile returning that she had seen a lot last night. “Or if you weren’t up for that, we could just stay in and binge trashy TV shows.” He offered with a laugh.

“It’d be nice to see what Matthew Healy’s usual haunts are.” She replied.

He quirked an eyebrow at the use of his full name, but pressed on. “Sounds like a plan. If you wanna start getting ready, I’ll work out where we can hit up today.” He said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket to do some quick googling. It took a few minutes to find where the guest bathroom was located in his house given that pretty much every single room looked the same at first, and then quite a few more minutes to work out where the hell Matty kept any spare towels considering he had barely any cupboards anywhere, but eventually she was on the right track to being presentable after a long-haul flight. He’d stopped her before she’d gone to make herself any breakfast, suggesting they go to one particular location first that would tackle that issue for her.

After locking up the house, they headed in the direction of stop number one. Everything about London was quite starkly different from anywhere else in the world that she had been. The architecture and history were fairly prominent everywhere you looked. It surprised her slightly that it was only after a couple of minutes walking that Matty motioned to a building, saying that this was where they had been heading. “I don’t drink a lot of it, but this is my favourite coffee shop.” He said as they stopped in front of a little hole-in-the-wall café. The only sign to alert someone that this place might serve hot beverages was a tiny plaque next to the doorway. “It’s a bit rubbish, really. But it’s quiet and I can get stuff done here if I’m not getting anythin’ done at home.” He shrugged with a laugh as he held the door open for her. It had a very homely feel inside. The lighting was warm and inviting, the shop smelled of fresh brewed coffee and baked goods, there was a couch by the door. It had all the signs of a good café. But he was right about it being quiet. There were only six tables in the narrow building and none of them were occupied. They sat down at the table furthest away from the door as she flipped through the simple menu that they had on offer. Once they worked out what they wanted from their limited options, they placed their orders - which were currently the only things being prepared and thus arrived at their table very quickly. Her growling stomach thoroughly approved of this.

The food wasn’t bad at all, and the coffee itself was pretty damn good. Clearly Matty’s standards of a good coffee shop were a lot higher than her own. As they chipped away at their late breakfast, his overexcitable demeanour and sudden invitation for her to come out here played on Y/N/N’s mind. It felt like something had shifted. Not something major, but enough of a something to make Matty act slightly different than usual. And as much as Matty had said that he would see her soon whenever they’d finished up the tour, she knew full well that Matty said a lot of things he didn’t necessarily follow through with. So, she hadn’t really expected it to be _this_ soon. Or at his house.

“How come you invited me out here?” She asked curiously as she took a sip of her coffee.

“Well, I’ve seen your place, it’s only fair you see mine.” He lied. This didn’t seem like the right time to blurt out ‘Hey, turns out I’ve actually been into you for a really fucking long time and just didn’t realise it. Surprise!’ He figured that could wait until later. “And it worked well with our downtime. I’d finished all the stuff I wanted to get done at home.” He added. At least _that_ part wasn’t a lie. He couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t seem satisfied with that answer.

“Fair enough.” She nodded, deciding to drop it. For now, anyway.

“Are you enjoying it so far?” He asked, trying to keep his excitement about having her here from boiling over.

“I’ve been here for all of about nine hours, Matty.” She chuckled.

“Oh… Yes. That’s fair.” He said with a light laugh. 

As soon as they had finished up, a waitress came over to clear away their dishes. She was surprised to see that no payment was exchanged before they left, until Matty explained that whenever he’s home, he just opens a tab with them and pays it off before he goes on tour again. “What’s next?” She asked.

“Allen’s favourite spot, c’mon.” He grinned, all but jumping out of his skin in excitement. They walked for about fifteen minutes before they approached a small, fenced in park. It wasn’t a huge amount of space, but for what it lacked in area it more than made up for in scenery. The dense foliage around the fence line made it seem a lot bigger than it actually was once you were inside, as it covered up the boundaries. There was a man-made creek in the middle of it that flowed from the higher side of the park down to the lower, with trees scattered along the edges. It had a couple of walking trails along the outside of the park that all met up in the middle, which had flower beds and benches intermittently placed along them. It was a very calming spot.

“This place is really beautiful.” She said in awe.

“I really love it. It’s so serene.” Matty chimed in, before being interrupted by a dog loudly barking on the other side of the park. “When there’s less dogs, anyway.” He added. “Allen _loves_ to jump into that damn river and it’s so fucking muddy in there.” Matty laughed loudly. “Every time I take him here, I have to be prepared to bath him when we get home.” He said as he walked over to one of the benches and took a seat.

“Do you come here often without him?” She questioned.

“Sometimes.” He said with a shrug. “But I don’t often find the time to. Allen makes me find time.”

They spent a bit of time in the park chatting. Matty mostly told stories of the many naughty things that Allen had done as a rebellious teenager in this park, which included hopping the fence numerous times. Their conversation pushed them through into the early afternoon.

“We probably have enough time for one more spot.” He said as he slid his phone back into his pocket after verifying the time.

“Sure, let’s get going then.” She grinned. So far, she was enjoying this short tour of Matty’s version of London. It felt like she was getting to know him a little better, and it was nice to feel like they were still close after how ignored she had felt at the tour after party. The last place on their list was back in the direction that they had originally come, but nearly half an hour’s walk away from the park. And she had to admit that when they got there, it was fairly underwhelming. “A studio? Really?” She asked with a roll of her eyes.

“It’s not on the list for the reasons you might think.” He challenged with a laugh as he unlocked the door and ushered her inside. It had a very similar layout to the studio that they had used while on tour, but she supposed designing something like this was probably a case of ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’ They walked through the building towards the back until they came to a staircase. After three flights, they finally reached a door. “You ready?” He asked as he started turning the doorknob, a look of childish glee on his features.

“I mean… I guess?” She was suddenly unsure about what she had agreed to. _Ready for what?_

It turned out that the doorway lead through to the roof. From this spot, they had a pretty clear view across the city. She had to admit that it was just a tad impressive.

“If we’ve been here all day recording and end up going into the night, the view from up here is _spectacular_.” Matty explained with a nostalgic look in his eyes.

“I can only imagine.” She said with a nod, trying to take in the vast landscape.

“Coming up here also helps me clear my head if I’m stuck on something in the studio.” He continued. “It’s not quite as nice as the studios we’ve hired out in the countryside. _Those_ are proper scenic. But this definitely gets the job done.” He finished with a chuckle. A few quiet minutes passed between them as they both took in the sights, before Matty’s constant need to fill the silence reared its head. “So?” He asked eventually, looking at her expectantly.

“What?” She asked back with a frown.

“Do my ‘usual haunts’ live up to the hype?” He elaborated, the morbid curiosity coming through in his voice.

“I guess they’re okay.” She shrugged, but the joking smile betrayed her nonchalance. “They’re really nice.” She admitted. “You seem to have some really good spots sorted out.”

A proud grin quickly found its way across his features. “You enjoyed your day, then?” He questioned.

“I would’ve enjoyed my day regardless of what we did.” She answered. For the first time, he was able to recognise the uncomfortable feeling in his chest at her comment and pin it down as not being a bad thing. Rather, it just spurred on his endless enthusiasm.

Seeing Matty so open and vulnerable was starting to throw her a bit off balance. He was usually filled with a mix of arrogance, sarcasm, humour, suggestive comments and maybe just a little bit of honest emotion. But since she stepped off that plane it was a hell of a lot more of the latter compared to anything else. First, he invited her into his home, then he was constantly sincerely enthusiastic about her company, and now he was showing her his favourite spots in London. It wasn’t exactly a part of his usual demeanour around her to be so genuine. He’d said so himself that he liked that he didn’t have to be on his best behaviour in her company. As she stared out at the city laid before them, she had to wonder what the hell had happened to the Matty she spent the last six weeks with. She’d missed him like crazy over the last fortnight and now she was second-guessing if she really knew this man at all.

“I’d really like to show you more, if there was more time.” He added the last part of his sentence like it reminded him of something. The faraway look he got in his eyes when he said it made her want to ask him about it, but he kept talking before she got the chance. “But we’d better be getting back. The boys will be heading ‘round soon.” He huffed with purpose as he started heading back towards the door.

They got back to his house shortly before the sun started setting. Which unfortunately didn’t leave them a huge amount of time between when they arrived and when the rest of the band were set to rock up. It wasn’t long at all before there was a knock at the door and Matty jumped up from the couch to answer it. When he came back, the crew were all together. It made her smile to see the four of them all in the same room again. The world felt a little bit more complete when they were together. But she didn’t have long to process that thought as she heard her name being called from every which direction by the three missing members of The 1975. They quickly poured into Matty’s lounge room and started wrapping her up in hugs.

“It’s only been a couple of weeks.” She pointed out, slightly surprised at how intense her welcome was turning out to be.

“Yeah, but it was weird not seeing you after seeing you every day for six weeks.” George said with a pout.

“There’s been nobody here to keep Matt in line. You have been sorely missed.” Ross laughed loudly.

“Hey, lay off.” Matty chuckled as he shoved the bassist’s shoulder playfully.

Once a few quick greetings were given, and some money was exchanged between Ross, Adam and George for some reason, the alcohol and snacks were unloaded on Matty’s kitchen counter. Anyone would’ve assumed that they were throwing a party for two dozen people for how much stuff had been brought over. But Adam reassured her that they were very big on having options available. They decided that it would be a nice evening to sit outside in the courtyard and play cards, so once drinks were in hand, they all began making their way to the outdoor table. Matty and Y/N/N were the last to get their beverages, mostly because he just couldn’t decide _what_ to pour. Eventually he settled on something worthy enough for his liver and made a drink, only to offer it to her first.

“Get drunk with me.” He said as he held the glass out to her.

“Sure, I’ll have a drink with you.” She shrugged as she reached out to take it. He pulled his hand back slightly.

“That’s not what I said.” He pointed out. She mulled over his words for a moment.

“You really want to get wasted on a Monday night?” She frowned with a light laugh.

“It’s not like we have any plans tomorrow.” He reasoned.

“I suppose…” She hummed thoughtfully, before deciding that there was really no reason not to. “All right, then.”

After a few hours sat around Matty’s small outdoor table, their catch up was over and drinks were flowing nicely. A few drinking games had been played to try and keep everyone from feeling the bite in the air and to keep conversation alive. Y/N/N had passed the point of tipsy a little while ago, but the rest of the band still seemed a few steps behind her. Matty, true to his word of getting drunk together, was matching drink for drink but she supposed that maybe he just held his alcohol better than she did. The boys were playing some card game that she had long since lost interest in, so she had opted instead to watch something more interesting - Matty. She had rested her head across her arm on the table, partially to be able to stare at him uninterrupted, and also in part to try and help with the spinning in her brain. He had the stub of a joint sitting in between his fingers as he idly stared at the cards in his hand. Every now and again he took a drag on it and blew the smoke upwards, trying occasionally to make rings above him. He would watch them dissipate into the night sky before attempting again. His hair was half falling into his face despite his best attempts to keep it back. That fucking fluffy mop of hair. It was going to be the death of her. A little voice in the back of her brain felt like it would probably feel pretty pleasant to run a hand through it. Maybe that was why he did it so often. The rest of the band were still deep in conversation, to which he threw in the odd remark every now and again. She was enjoying just having the moment to study him. If she stared at him for this long when he was actually paying attention, he would’ve given her shit for it a good few minutes ago. His movements all seemed calculated as he played his cards and planned his replies, the expression in his dark brown eyes shifting from relaxed to concentrated whenever he had to do something.

Everything about him was just constantly dragging her in, and it was safe to say that she had taken the bait. Hook, line and sinker. She’d been dying to see him after how they left things on tour. _Especially_ after the fact that she had just been about to finally give him what he wanted. It was like she’d finally allowed herself the chance to be openly interested in him, only to have to cram her feelings back up again. His offer to come out here certainly hadn’t been unwelcome, it was just unexpected. That coupled with his sincerity since she arrived was both heart-warming and also mildly disconcerting as she couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from. But at that moment, all she could think of was how happy she was right now. To be here with him, and their friends, in his house, after a day of being shown his favourite nooks and crannies of London. He seemed to be going out of his way to give her a good day. This was a Matty that she only ever saw glimpses of most of the time. As that thought crossed her mind, he glanced down at her to check that she was okay. Considering that he hadn’t heard anything from her in a little while he was slightly worried that she had passed out or something, but he was surprised to find her staring back up at him. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but she just continued watching him, now not looking away from his gaze.

“What?” He eventually asked.

“I’m super into you.” She answered honestly.

For a brief moment, he was fairly certain that the planet physically stopped spinning and that time stood still. He let out a short laugh in disbelief at her blunt response to try and cover up his rapidly increasing pulse. The alcohol had been intended to loosen up his own tongue about internalised feelings, not hers. “Really?” He asked, grabbing his phone off of the table and holding it towards her. “Can you just say that again into this recording device so that I can play it back to you when you’re sober?”

“Sober me knows it too.” She said with a nod. The wave of relief that washed over him at hearing those words was unparalleled. He choked back his feelings for a minute to continue his train of thought.

“Then why doesn’t sober you ever fucking admit it?” He asked as he reached out and tapped her forehead.

“You have a big enough ego as it is.” She said as she waved her hand dismissively in his direction. He couldn’t deny that was a solid argument. “And also admitting it means having difficult conversationsssss.” She added, slurring her words slightly.

He frowned at that. “I mean, it doesn’t have to.”

“It does. It does for me.” She said with a nod. “I’m gonna get another drink.” She declared as she stood up and walked inside. Matty watched her carefully, noticing the slight stumble in her step. He threw his cards face up onto the table, following her into the house.

“Guess he’s not coming back.” Ross chuckled.

“I’m taking his chips.” George said quickly before anybody could stop him.

“Conversations like what?” Matty asked as he pulled the glass door shut behind him and followed her into the kitchen.

“Like where we end up _after_ I say that.” She explained as she glanced over all of the bottles of liquor spread across the counter.

Fuck. That was pretty much Matty’s number one worry as well. But he wasn’t about to let that stop him from at least trying. “Why do we have to think ten steps ahead?” He asked, racking his brain for an actual end game plan. “Can’t we just… start with step one?” He offered, seeing her go for the bottle of vodka and moving to grab the coke for her.

“Step one is a slippery slope to step ten.” She shot back with a pointed look.

“I promise I’ll slam on the breaks at step five.” She gave a light laugh at his joke as she poured her drink. “Really though, would it be so bad to see where it takes us?” He questioned, leaning against the counter.

She sighed as she put the coke back into the fridge. “But you still don’t have _any_ idea where that might be, Matty.”

“Why’s it up to me?” He huffed as he pulled a hand through his hair. Why did he have to be the one making the big calls all the time?

“Because you’re the one in the world-famous band who has to work and travel all the time.” She had a valid point. “ _You_ need a plan about how to make that work.”

She started heading back towards the door to continue chatting with the rest of the boys, only to feel Matty’s hand catch her wrist and pull her back towards him.

“Wait, I-” He started, feeling like he had more to say before this conversation was left to drunken half-memories. But for a man who was usually so eloquent with his words, his mouth was running dry now. And as the seconds ticked by in silence the tension in the air just continued to grow. He glanced down at his hand still on her wrist, wanting to find the solution to all of this that would instantly fix his problems and stop this burning feeling in his chest. It was almost definitely the alcohol talking but she was finally fucking _over_ waiting and dealing with the constant flirting. So, she leaned in to kiss him, thinking now was at last the time to just give in. Just get it over with. Let herself be into him. Let herself act on it. Only to feel his hand on her shoulder holding her back. As much as he had been dying for this - her, it hadn’t exactly been his intention to make a move when she had just made it clear that she was waiting on him. He couldn’t let her throw herself under the bus like that, not after he knew how much she had already had to drink. He flashed her an apologetic look. “Sorry, love. That wasn’t…” Fuck, why couldn’t he just get the words out? “Not right now.”

“Why?” She frowned, eventually finding herself laughing. “It’s you who’s been pushing this for the last six months.” 

“We are definitely not on the same level of inebriation right now.” He said with a small chuckle. “Another time.” He promised.

As soon as they stepped back outside, George could feel the awkward atmosphere that wafted out with them. He hadn’t quite heard what they’d been saying at the table before they went inside, but knowing Matty’s intentions when he invited her out here, it was probably safe to assume the topic. As opposed to letting his two friends stew over whatever had just transpired George got to quick work on changing the topic and including them in the conversation to get their minds off of it. Within a few minutes the vibe in the room had gone back to what it was at the start of the night. Drinks continued into the early morning before one by one people started putting themselves to bed. The rest of the band decided to crash at Matty’s place to save themselves trying to get home while they were shitfaced. Ross passed out on the lounge, Adam managed to make his way to the empty spare room, George found somewhere or other to rest his head. Which left just Y/N/N and Matty sat outside finishing off their last drinks. Their conversation earlier in the night wasn’t playing on their minds as much as it would be if they were sober, but it still sat somewhere in the back of their brains, waiting to be addressed. Matty decided that would be best left until tomorrow.

He took the last sip of his drink before setting the glass on the table. “Ready to call it a night?” He asked, stifling a yawn.

“Mmm… sure.” She muttered with a shrug. “You gotta carry me, though.”

He gave an incredulous laugh in response. “I have to what?”

“Carry me.” She repeated.

“Why on earth would I do that?” He asked as he stood up from his chair, feeling his head spin for a moment before he felt sure of his feet. That last joint probably wasn’t wise.

“Because I’m too drunk to navigate your treacherous staircase back to my room.” She explained with a pout. He looked down at her, feeling his resolve quickly crumble around him.

“I’ll _help_ you; I’m not carrying you.” He offered as he held his hand out to her to help her up.

“Fiiiiiine.” She huffed as she took his hand. He wrapped an arm around her and tried his best to manage not one, but now _two_ drunk people getting up his concrete stairs. After much laughter and stumbling, they managed to make it to the first floor of his house.

He led her back to the spare room that she was set up in, making sure that she was safely on the bed before pulling his arm away.

“Let me know if you need anything.” He said as she kicked her shoes off and crawled into bed.

“Where are you going?” She asked when he started making his way out.

“My room?” He answered with a confused frown.

“Why?” She questioned as she rolled over. He didn’t really know how to answer that. “You should just stay here.” She mumbled with her face half in the pillow. _Fucking hell_. First the kiss and now this? It was taking every ounce of his self-restraint and sense of standards to not just say yes. Was this what she had felt like whenever he pulled shit like this on tour?

“Not tonight.” He chuckled as he switched the light off. “Sleep well.”


	12. For Cryin' Out Loud

The next morning she awoke with a splitting headache. As her vision refocused, she noticed the glass of water and painkillers sitting on the bedside table. She didn’t think she’d ever been so happy to see water before. After gratefully washing away the sour taste in her mouth she eyed the meds. Nope. She would almost definitely throw up if she tried to ingest those right now. As her head hit the pillow again, she tried to piece together last night. Her memories were a bit patchy but she definitely remembered the main events. She knew that she finally gave Matty the satisfaction of knowing that she was into him. She knew that she tried to kiss him – and didn’t. She knew that he didn’t _seem_ to react badly to either of those things. The rest was sort of up to speculation as to if she was remembering them correctly or if her mind was piecing things together how she wanted it to be. After a few minutes of trying to feel a bit less nauseous, she eventually heard Allen make his way into her room. It was sort of hard to stay in bed when you had a large bullmastiff on the bed next to you trying to sniff every inch of your face. So, she begrudgingly got up and made her way downstairs. Upon stepping into the kitchen, the hushed conversation that had been occurring between Matty and George came to an abrupt halt when she made eye contact with the drummer. She frowned at the two of them, waiting for one to let her in on the secret.

“How’s the hangover?” George asked to break the silence.

“Awful.” She mumbled; voice still hoarse from sleep. “You guys?” She asked as she rubbed her eyes to try and get the sleep out of them.

He shrugged, “All right.”

“The key to binge drinking is practice.” Matty added with a sarcastic grin, eyeing the familiar hoodie that she was wearing. It still set his brain on edge to see her wearing something that used to be his. 

“Probably not healthy.” She huffed as she stepped around them to refill her glass of water.

“You up for breakfast?” He continued. She considered the offer briefly before her stomach growled loudly, answering for her. “I’ll get some stuff ready.” He laughed with a nod as he started pulling ingredients from the fridge. Food would probably help her overcome this faster.

“I’ll grab the rest of the guys.” George said as he walked off in the direction of the lounge.

Matty had spent the night mostly sleepless, racking his brain for answers about how to make it work between them. She wanted him to come to a decision – so, he would. He’d find the solution, the perfect answer that made all the pieces fit together. She was worried about him being busy and travelling all the time? Well, he just needed to find a way for her to travel with him. If distance wasn’t so much of an issue, he could easily make time during his hectic life around other things. He was well aware that for this to work, she had to be around more permanently. In the past it had been made incredibly apparent that as soon as you lose that proximity with people, it becomes increasingly difficult to maintain the relationship you have with them. But how was he meant to make that a permanent thing without just paying for her to come along with him all the time? He knew that she hated feeling useless, and being his plus one in life would drive her insane. He’d need a better idea than that if she was going to actually agree to it. And that was where George came in. He always knew what to do. And, true to form, George had an amazing idea like he always did. Once the wheels were in motion, Matty knew his game plan. He knew what to do. He finally knew what step ten was, as well as steps one through nine. And now that he knew the direction that he wanted them to be heading in, well… there was no harm in just a _little_ bit more teasing before sealing the deal, right? Just for old times’ sake.

“So… how’s your memory of last night?” He asked nonchalantly as she took a seat at the dining table.

“A bit foggy.” She said, hoping she could avoid what she knew was inevitably coming.

“Want me to refresh it?” He smirked over his shoulder as he started frying some eggs.

“No, I think I-”

“ _Well_ ,” He interrupted eagerly. “We started drinking with the lads, then you got really handsy and insisted that we go up to my room-”

“Matty-”

“When we got there, you were telling me about all this stuff you wanted to do-”

This was a much more familiar Matty. Why had she missed this, again? “Fuck me…” She mumbled under her breath as she pinched the bridge of her nose in agitation. He abruptly stopped talking at that.

“Oh, so you _do_ remember.” He grinned suggestively, popping some bread into the toaster.

“No, Matty. That’s not…” She sighed tiredly. “That’s not what happened.”

“Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure that’s how you wanted things to go..?” He asked innocently, scratching at the side of his messy hair for emphasis. “Why don’t _you_ refresh _my_ memory then?”

There was a long pause while he waited for her to start talking. That dumb, expectant smile sitting on his face the whole time. It was obvious that he was well aware that she did in fact remember last night. “I could literally strangle you right now and not one single person in this house would stop me.”

“Who’s strangling who now?” Adam asked with a yawn as he stepped into the kitchen.

“Y/N/N was just telling me about how she is into choking.” Matty deadpanned.

“Are you always such a twat?” She said with a roll of her eyes.

“Only for you, love.” He winked as he started dishing up the food. “Food’s ready!” He declared loudly. The five of them crammed themselves into Matty’s cosy lounge room, appreciatively shovelling the greasy bacon and eggs into their mouths to help with everyone’s lingering hangovers. It was mostly quiet as they ate, save for the odd comment about the food or their headaches. Once they’d polished off everything on their plates, Y/N/N started picking up the empty dishes to take them into the kitchen. “No, no, no, you don’t gotta do that-” Matty said as he tried to grab the plates from her.

“It’s fine. You cooked, I’m happy to clean up.” She nodded as she carried them into the kitchen. By George’s count, it was a total of twelve seconds before Matty followed after her.

He called after her as she continued to try and tidy against his wishes, “Really, you’re here as a guest, let me sort that stuff out.” He tried to reach past her unsuccessfully to grab the plates. “And you’re hungover, go chill.” He added. She put them down in the sink before turning to face him, surprised to see how close he had been standing behind her. What she had been going to say suddenly slipped her mind - all she could think of was the fact that the last time they had been standing this close in his kitchen, she tried to kiss him. The only reason he’d given last night for saying no was because she was drunker than he was, he’d even said ‘another time.’ Another time… Another time like now? The self-satisfied grin that was slowly spreading across his face indicated that he could tell exactly what was running through her head. He was pretty intrigued to discover that she was only confident enough to make a move on him when she was drunk. For someone who was so stubborn and sure of herself, she still seemed pretty reluctant to act on her feelings. They were so caught up in their little moment that they didn’t notice when Ross walked into the kitchen.

“Get a fuckin’ room, you two.” He scoffed as he stepped around them to put his mug in the sink. She took a step back as soon as she realised someone else was in the room, the distance giving her the chance to kickstart the gears in her brain.

Good lord. Matty just had this way of instantly getting into her head as soon as they were in a close enough proximity. She was meant to be _not_ getting involved with him. Confessing that she was into him was one thing, but the reason she had wanted to finally tell him was so that he’d _stop_ hounding her – not increase his efforts. Since she got here, he’d been nothing but charming and welcoming and genuine and UGH. Being able to keep her distance was getting increasingly more difficult. What had happened to her willpower? Her resolve about waiting until he actually gave her an answer? When did that get thrown out the window? She noticed as she was running through her thoughts that Matty was still watching her in curiosity.

“What?” She snapped in frustration. He just shrugged with a grin as she walked out of the kitchen. It was immensely interesting to him that despite that she’d already told him of her feelings, she still seemed to be having the same internal dilemma about it. He wondered what was still holding her back from talking about it.

Now that everyone had food in their stomachs the fogginess in their heads was starting to clear and they were all feeling a bit more functional. They sprawled across Matty’s couch suite, watching TV in comfortable silence for a little while. It was nearing on midday before conversations of the guys migrating away from the lounge room started.

“We’re back in the studio tomorrow for that meeting, yeah?” Adam asked as he rubbed his eyes. George and Ross both nodded in response. “I should probably go get some stuff done this afternoon, then.” He added.

“I was thinking we could release another track soon.” Matty spoke up, instantly pulling everyone’s attention to him.

“Oh?” George mused with his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Which one?” Ross asked.

“If you’re too shy, let me know.” He said, holding Y/N/N’s gaze firmly. She knew that it was indeed a title of a song they’d mostly finished off, but the knowing look he was throwing her way caused her cheeks to start burning up under his stare.

“Yeah, we could do that.” George said with a shrug.

“Do you want me to ask Jamie about it?” Adam questioned as he stood up. “I can call him on the way back home?”

“What do you reckon, Y/N/N?” Matty asked as he disregarded Adam’s questions. George rolled his eyes so hard they almost fell out of his skull.

“When is this shit gonna end?” He groaned under his breath.

“What?”

“ _Nothing_.”

“So?” Matty pressed.

“Sounds fine.” She mumbled as she tore her gaze away from him and focused back on the TV.

“I’ll go call Jamie now then and get the ball rolling.” Adam concluded, not wanting to let this awkward conversation drag on anymore with him still in the room. “I’ll see you lads tomorrow.” He shouted over his shoulder as he started heading towards the door.

“Yeah, I might head out too.” Ross nodded, standing up and stretching his arms up above his head.

“Count me in on that.” George chimed in. “We’ll see you later, Matt.” He added, all but hauling Ross out of the room.

All of a sudden, the rest of the band had left, and it was just the two of them with the TV filling the tense silence. A few seconds passed before Matty let out a heavy sigh. Fuck. He was gonna want to talk about last night. She wasn’t ready to talk about last night. Ideally, she _never_ wanted to talk about it because she felt like as soon as she talked about it, she was going to be unable to stop herself from acting on it. And then she’d get caught up in Hurricane Matthew Healy and end up getting hurt. He stood up from the couch and stepped over to the TV console, humming quietly as he did so. God dammit. Should she just start the conversation? Then at least the ball was in her court?

“Now seems like a good time-” Oh no. Here it comes. “to pick up where we left off.” He said as he held out a Nintendo 64 controller out to her.

“I… what?” She asked with a confused frown.

“I said I’d kick your arse another time. Now’s that time.” He grinned with a challenging look. It took her a moment to remember what he was referring to. It had been so long since he’d missed that flight and ended up killing time at her place. But just like that, the awkward vibe in the room had dissipated and things felt like they normally did.

“As _if_.” She scoffed, taking the controller. “You’re on, Healy.”

He popped the Mario Kart cartridge into the console before settling back into the couch next to her.

“Track preference?” He questioned.

“Dealer’s choice. I’ll win regardless.” She shrugged with confidence. He hummed thoughtfully.

“We’ll just see about that.” He chuckled as they started the race. They played a few cups in civil competition, their skill levels fairly on par with one another. It was when they got to the tie breaker that things started getting more intense. Matty’s distraction tactics started off small – asking off the wall questions to throw her off her game, pretending that he could hear her phone ringing. When none of that worked, he upped the ante by starting to lean into his turns. At first it was only slight leaning every time he hit a corner, but eventually he was practically squashing her into her half of the couch.

“Get _off_.” She grunted, trying to push back against him. “Stop cheating.”

“It’s not cheating.” He argued with a laugh.

“I’m pretty sure it is.”

“No, _this_ would be cheating.” He shot back as he pulled her controller from her hands and held it out away from her.

“Matty! Not cool!” She shouted as she tried to grab it back, but he just held it out further over the edge of the couch.

“You need a handicap.”

“The win doesn’t count if you rig the game!” She tried to move behind him to lean across towards the controller, but he just pushed himself back into the couch to stop her. As he moved back, she tried to dive in front of him only to have him drop it on the floor next to him. Which just left her leant across his lap and a lot closer than she’d prefer to be to him. A couple of seconds ticked by as she ran through the motions in her head of how she’d wound up like this. As she sat back up, it was unsurprising to find Matty watching her. How did she keep ending up like this? Stuck in a situation where she was torn between her morals and emotions? It’s just… _he’s_ just… Matty picked the controller up off the floor, holding it out to her. Her gaze flicked between the controller and him. “You win.” She conceded, her voice barely above a whisper. He raised an eyebrow in question. She gestured to the screen only for him to see that the race was over.

“Oh.” For a brief moment, he’d thought she might’ve been talking about something else. He paused for a beat. “Rematch?”

As the afternoon ticked over into the evening, a dense cloud cover settled itself over the city. Their competition was a lot calmer as they switched and changed games. It was when they finally finished Matty’s last cartridge that London began to live up to its stereotype and the rain beginning to pelt against his windows. While trying to think of what to do next Matty pulled a joint out and lit it up. He took a sharp inhale of it, only to see her hold her hand out. His eyebrows shot up in surprise before handing it over to her. He was so used to her declining his invitations to smoke with him that he’d just stopped offering. She gave a short grateful nod before taking a drag as he let out the smoke that he had been holding in his lungs. He leaned back into his couch, shutting his eyes for a moment to take in the feeling. She exhaled the smoke above her and watched it drift towards the ceiling. Despite how conflicting her thoughts had been, it was nice that since she’d gotten here, she’d had the opportunity to be with just him. Normally when they were on tour it was hard to get him by himself; he was always with the band, and she couldn’t exactly pull him away from his job just to hang out with her for a bit. But his company was always enjoyable, it felt like a bit of a comfort blanket. That when she was so far away from home, she still had this piece of familiarity. She supposed that meant that to a degree, Matty… felt kind of like home? She recalled him saying something about that once, but couldn’t remember what it was now. He nudged her with his shoulder, forcing her to look over at him and break her train of thought. He was slouching into the couch, but his brown eyes were intently focused on her.

“What’re you thinking?” Matty asked casually.

“I dunno. Just thinking that this is nice.” She shrugged.

“Getting stoned?” He questioned with a laugh.

“No,” She answered, chuckling slightly, “Like… hanging out with you, like this.” She explained, “It’s been nice getting to spend this time with you at your place. It feels really comfortable.”

“Gee, thanks.” He huffed, “Good to know that I’m still great at keeping our friendship interesting.” He said sarcastically.

“No, I-” She started, before sighing, “You know that’s not what I meant.” She said with a pointed look. “It feels warm and cosy comfortable, not boring comfortable. Like I could just stay like this, y’know?” She gestured vaguely at the space around them for emphasis.

“Yeah… I know.” And he did. He knew exactly what that felt like. He’d been feeling it without knowing for the last six months.

“It’s also nice havin’ you out here. Though, I was beginning to think that this wouldn’t happen.” He mused, staring at the joint in his hand thoughtfully.

“Me coming to your place..?” She asked with a confused frown.

“No, I _did_ mean getting stoned.” He laughed loudly as he took a drag. “I feel like you’ve been putting it off for aaaaages. It just makes things feel easier and nicer. Makes life more tolerable.”

“Can’t argue with that, stuff does indeed feel nicer.” She nodded.

That gave him an idea. Maybe he could get in just one last button push. “Food, music,” He paused for a moment as he turned to look at her, “physical contact.” He intentionally drew out the last word, the expression in his eyes shifting slightly.

 _Oh, no._ “I uh-” She watched his fingers trail up the side of her arm as he sat up a bit more, swallowing harshly before continuing. “-wouldn’t be able to verify on the last bit.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead to hers.

“Oh, really?” His breath was mingling with hers in the small space between them. She could feel the nerves swirling in the pit of her stomach, only being able to mutter a noncommittal noise in response. “Willing to put it to the test?” He asked as she felt his lips ghost across hers.

A little voice in the back of her mind warned her that this might not be a good idea. That this was _definitely_ just diving headfirst into the pit that she was trying to avoid getting involved in (though that ship might’ve ~~definitely~~ already sailed). But also, she’d been dying to kiss Matty for the last few days- weeks- months. The constant teasing today since she admitted she was interested in him had been relentless, it almost felt worse than what it had been on tour, and he had only ever gotten better at pushing the right buttons. Before she could object, he was trailing his lips along the side of her neck. She froze up for a moment as her brain tried to work out what to do. Fuck. He was _not_ lying. The contact felt like it was sinking into her muscles and burrowing its way straight into her nervous system. She couldn’t help but melt into his touch. As soon as she gave him a positive reaction, his teeth grazed against the sweet spot in her neck. He let out a satisfied chuckle at her sharp intake of breath.

“Matty?” She asked, trying her best to keep her tone even. He mumbled a noise of recognition into her skin and she could feel the smirk on his lips, it nearly forced a shiver down her spine. “I feel like maybe we shouldn’t-”

“ _I_ feel like you’ve been trying not to kiss me all fuckin’ day.” He shot back, reluctantly moving himself back enough to get out a clear sentence.

“And I was doing pretty decent at it too.” She grumbled.

“You wanted to last night.” He reminded her. “Why won’t you now?” He pressed, pulling back properly now to actually see her answer.

“We’ve been over this.” She said with a roll of her eyes.

“Indulge me.”

“You live a plane ride away-” She started.

“We see each other all the time.” He argued.

“You are a super busy guy-”

“You know full well I could make time.” He scoffed.

“Because you aren’t gonna commit to anything.” She finally admitted.

“But what if I was willing to?” He asked.

“Matty, you said-” She started with a sigh.

“[Fuck what I said](https://66.media.tumblr.com/9211e32aa6794d832d444e38b24d04e1/dff4b7f3e622d2ee-d9/s400x600/c6186b4faeafb1e69b28571eed8d1b9ad1206df8.gifv).”

That was it. He’d won. She was done fighting it. “FINE.” She huffed as she grabbed the side of his jacket, pulling his lips down hard on to hers. He had to try and keep his grin under control so that he could actually kiss her back and not blow this before it even started. First impressions were important. They had a good amount of weight carried with them. His eyes slipped shut as he moved a hand to the back of her neck, using the other resting on her waist to pull her against him. She was fast discovering that he was definitely right about what he had said. If what he was doing before didn’t already set her nerves into overdrive, this was now actively shorting out her brain. She felt herself slipping back into the couch, only to feel him mirror the movement and hover over her. The slight change in position gave him the opportunity to deepen the kiss. She raked a hand through his messy head of curls, finally getting the chance to feel how soft they were. It was safe to say that she was not disappointed. Maybe it was the weed, but it was definitely pretty high up there on the list of softest things she’d ever touched. The warmth radiating from him made her skin feel like it was on fire. It was bordering on overwhelming after how long she had waited to kiss this man. Eventually he pulled himself away, leaning back slightly to meet her gaze. He tried his best not to laugh at the flushed look on her face.

“So?” He asked with an eyebrow raised.

Her brain tried to figure out what he might be referring to, but it was struggling to come back down to earth after… that. “What?” Came her breathless reply eventually, frowning up at him.

“What if I _was_ willing to commit to something?” He asked again.

“You… What?” The gears were trying their hardest to turn but couldn’t quite keep pace. She sat up slightly, bringing herself closer to eye level with him “You were serious?” She asked in surprise.

“You made out with me even though you thought I wasn’t?” He asked with a loud laugh, “What happened to your moral high ground on that?” He taunted. She blushed furiously as she looked away from him. He brought a hand up to her cheek, encouraging her to look back at him. “I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t serious, love.” He reassured. “Look I…” He took a deep breath, trying to find the words that had been running through his mind lately. “I know my impulse control is _awful_ , and I’m a conceited asshole sometimes who can be very selfish. I’m away a lot and I never stop working, but-” He started to reach for the drawer of the coffee table.

“Wait. Wait wait wait.” She stopped him abruptly, forcing a puzzled expression out of him. This was too much. He was serious about wanting to pursue something with her? Shit. This conversation was getting way too deep way too quickly. “I don’t mean to interrupt this moment that we’re having right now, but can we please talk about this tomorrow when I’m not stoned?” He looked at her for a moment as he tried to process that his fantastic speech that he had been working on all day had to be scrapped, before letting out a huff of a laugh.

“Sure. We can talk about it tomorrow.” He nodded.

“But… Is this… Does that mean..?” She tried her best to formulate a sentence that accurately captured the thought process she was trying to convey. Though, weed made that a lot more difficult than what it should’ve been. But, thankfully for her, Matty knew what she was getting at.

“Yeah. The feeling’s mutual.” He answered with a soft smile. Her heart felt like it was about to jump out of her chest at his words, and she found the grin spreading across her face hard to control. Everything suddenly felt a bit less difficult. The last six months felt less like she’d been fighting a losing battle. And then her mind drifted back to the bet. And tour. And today. And- _hang on._

“Then why were you such a fucking twat about it?!” She shouted as she punched him in the arm.

“Because you’re fun to mess with.” He laughed loudly, flinching away from her second swing at him.

“For _six months_?”

“I’ll explain tomorrow, I promise.” He assured her, taking her hand in his to stop her from trying to knock him out again. “But for now, we should get some sleep.” He added as he stood up, pulling her hand with him to help her up.

The rain was coming down harder outside now, the sound echoing through Matty’s sparsely decorated house. The atmosphere in the house felt different now. The atmosphere around _Matty_ felt different now. It was like everything had shifted slightly in a different direction that now held a calmer vibe. She finally had the freedom to just let herself have feelings for Matty unhindered. For the first time in the last half of a year, she wasn’t worried about having to keep her willpower in check around a boy who did everything in his power to tear it down. Which was probably why holding onto his hand as they climbed up his stairs felt a lot more important right now than what the action had in the past. He stopped outside the spare room door, reluctantly releasing her hand.

“I’ll see you in the mornin’.” He said with a nod.

“I guess so.” She nodded back. Oh, and now it was weird and awkward again. They both stood there for a second, trying to work out what to do until Matty finally took the initiative.

“Sleep well.” He added with a smirk, leaning in to kiss her briefly before making his way to his own room. Her thoughts finally caught up with her as she watched him walk down the hall, lingering for a moment before retreating back into the spare room.

She quickly got herself ready before climbing into bed, replaying the last few hours over in her head. The idea of their conversation tomorrow had her nervous, but for once it was a good kind of nervous. It was an excited nervous, not a terrified-you’re-about-to-throw-your-heart-down-a-pit-of-never-ending-despair nervous. As she went to switch off the lamp next to her bed, Matty re-appeared in her doorway. He leaned against the frame casually before speaking.

“I was just thinking…” He started nonchalantly. “Does your offer from last night still stand?” He asked.

“What offer?” She frowned back at him.

“Last night you asked me to stay here.” He answered, shifting his weight anxiously. Oh. So, she _had_ actually done that, it wasn’t just her drunken memories playing tricks on her.

“I, uh…” She stammered as she fiddled with the duvet, unsure what to say. The heaviness in her brain was making it hard to decide what answer to give.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” He said, heading back to his room. It was dumb of him to ask. He should’ve known that bringing that up would be pushing it too far.

The pang of regret as she watched him walk out was instantaneous. “Matty. Wait, hold on! Come back.” She rushed out. A couple of seconds passed before his footsteps got closer and his head appeared back in the doorway. “You should stay.”

“You sure?” He verified as he took an apprehensive step back into the room. Within a flash as the ‘yes’ left her lips, he was lying in bed next to her, a cheesy grin plastered on his face. He wrapped an arm around her waist. “All good?” He asked as he pulled her closer to him. She nodded slightly, reaching around him to switch off the light before attempting to get comfortable. It was probably a good thing that she was stoned, because if she wasn’t, she’d likely be too nervous right now about sharing a bed with him to sleep. But at the moment everything just felt warm and fuzzy. “G’night.” He mumbled, planting a kiss to her forehead for emphasis.


	13. Love Me (If That's What You Wanna Do)

Just like the mornings prior, the light streaming in through the large windows in Matty’s bright house woke her up. However, unlike the mornings prior, the tangle of arms and legs, the arm around her stomach, the soft snoring in her ear and the curly hair tickling her cheek were a welcome new addition. Her eyes took a brief moment to adjust to the room around her. It was nice not being jetlagged, or hungover, it meant that she had enough braincells functioning to accurately recall the events of last night. She shuffled slightly, moving to grab her phone from the bedside table to check the time, only to feel Matty’s arm tighten around her and pull her back into the middle of the bed.

“Stay in bed.” He mumbled; the tone of his voice thick with sleep.

“I thought you had stuff that you’re meant to do today?” She questioned, letting him keep her there anyway.

“Don’t care. Want to stay here with you.” He answered. She already felt that heart-warming feeling spreading through her chest after remembering how last night had gone, and he was very easily amplifying it tenfold with such a simple comment. 

“When did you get so sappy?” She muttered as she pressed her forehead into his shoulder in an attempt to hide the blush covering her cheeks.

“I will be as sappy as I damn well want.” He laughed as he squeezed his arms around her, trailing kisses from her cheek to her lips. _Fucking hell._ How did she ever think that she stood a chance to not fall prey to his charm?

Which pulled her mind back to how they’d left things last night. “So…” She cleared her throat anxiously. “Uh, when did you wanna talk?” It seemed best in her mind to just get it over with.

“Whenever you’re ready to.” He shrugged.

She paused for a few seconds. “Now?” She suggested.

He let out a deep sigh, ending it in a yawn as he rolled over, stretching his arms above his head. “Let’s head downstairs, then.” He nodded. “We can chat over breakfast.”

They made their way downstairs, Y/N/N taking a seat at the small outdoor table as she watched him potter about the kitchen. He hummed quietly to himself as he searched the cupboards for something basic for the two of them to eat. The contented atmosphere around him was plain to see. It was nice seeing him at ease when he was frequently so tightly wound or on edge about something.

He sat down at the table, setting a mug down in front of her as he cradled his own tea in his hands. As he stared down into his cup, he tried to carefully picked his words. _Where to begin?_ “I guess I should start with: I’m sorry about the bet. It er, got a bit out of hand, I suppose.”

“No kidding?” She replied sarcastically as she took a sip of her drink. He couldn’t help but let out a laugh at that before pulling himself back on track.

“It started as just messin’ about. I liked your company and you gave me a run for my money. I didn’t know what I wanted out of what we had because I wasn’t sure how I felt. I thought…” He swallowed hard, hating that he had to admit the next part. “I thought that I just liked having you around because you helped me deal with my thoughts when they were… getting difficult. I told you that things run smoother for me with company, but I truly struggle without my friends. I wouldn’t have been able to get clean - _stay_ clean, if it weren’t for them. I rely on them massively. When you came along, it was easy for me to shift some of that emotional reliance onto you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She frowned. Had she known that was the case, she would’ve been able to offer some assistance through his rough patches rather than watching him suffer in silence.

“Because I thought if I told you that I felt dependent on you to stay in a good headspace, you wouldn’t wanna be around me anymore. It’s hardly charming to hear that I don’t function properly alone.” He answered truthfully. “In my best efforts to avoid confronting that, I did everything I could to keep you around without being open about why. And the bet seemed like a good way to do that. If I kept dragging it out, it gave me an excuse to stay in your life.” He elaborated.

“Matty, you didn’t need an excuse-”

“Yeah, I know that _now_ , Y/N/N.” He grinned. “But hindsight is twenty-twenty. As it so turned out, anyway, that _wasn’t_ why I was so hell bent on keeping you around.” He pointed out as he took a swig of his tea.

“So…” He stared down at the hole in his jeans, picking at it absent-mindedly. “I ignored my motivations behind what we had for a long time, and gradually they changed without me noticing. It wasn’t until George talked some sense into me after tour ended that I realised why I’d been doin’ it.” She stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. “Because I was into you, too.” He clarified with a roll of his eyes.

“You see? See how it fucking feels to have someone make you say it?” She laughed as she shoved his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. I said I was sorry, all right?” He chuckled. “I only realised it while you were away working at that show.”

“Is _that_ what that voicemail was about?” She asked in surprise as the pieces suddenly clicked into place.

“Uh, kinda. More so what the call the next day was about. And why I asked you to come out here. Once I was aware of it, I finally had to do what you’d been bugging me about since we’ve met and actually work out what I wanted.” He said with a short laugh. “I wanted to tell you, I knew that much. But the rest I needed a bit of help with.”

“And that brings us to the difficult bit that _you_ didn’t want to confront: what happens _after_ all this is said and done.” He added as he stood up and walked over to his coffee table. He opened the drawer on the side of it, pulling out a stack of papers. Glancing at the cover quickly to double check that he’d definitely grabbed the right thing, he made his way back to the outdoor table. “Because I know that us being into each other doesn’t mean much if I end up on tour for the majority of the year.” He flipped through the pages anxiously, choosing his words wisely before he spoke. “I want you to come and be the director of our merch.” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. _What?_ “It’s, erm, it’s a real job. Not something daft I made up like the Rome merch gig. You’d be in charge of our whole merchandising operation: organising stock levels, contracting out the merch jobs to the venues as we tour, making sure that they set it up correctly and that sales are lining up. Sam and I would still be designing our stuff, but you’d do pretty much all the rest. I know you don’t like sitting around doin’ nothing, so it’s proper work. You’d pretty much have to live on the road with us, have downtime when we record or have downtime ourselves. But, um, you don’t have to decide now.” He handed her the thick wad of paper. “This is the contract. Read it over, make sure you know what the job is. And don’t say yes because of me. The offer isn’t anything to do with me, it’s The 1975 exclusive. It was George’s idea actually, it didn’t even come from me.” He laughed lightly, scratching nervously at the back of his neck. Ah, that explained their secret conversation yesterday. “But I don’t want you to say yes because you think I want you to. Which is not to say that I _don’t_ want you to, it’s just…” He let out a deep sigh as he tried to get his thoughts back on track. “Whether you say yes to the job or not, it doesn’t matter. It wouldn’t change any of my opinions. And _if_ you say yes, anything that happens between us, good or bad or _nothing_ , it doesn’t affect the job, yeah?” He had too many things on the list in his head to try and convey that he was starting to worry that his point wasn’t coming across coherently.

She stared down at the papers in her hands as she mulled over the offer. “This is incredibly generous, but I don’t want to be taking someone else’s job away from them.” She said as she went to pass them back. He just pushed it back into her grip.

“You’re not.” He assured. “Previously this is something that Jamie or I did. It’s about time we delegated, so if you don’t take the job it will be offered to someone else.” As he spoke, the sound of his ringtone started filling the air around them. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the caller ID. Realistically, he shouldn’t have been surprised. “Ah, shit… That’s Hann.” He huffed, running a hand through his hair. There was still so much more that he wanted to say.

“Are you running late?” She asked.

He nodded. “I gotta go meet the guys at the studio. I’ll be back in a bit. Read the contract, see what you think. Jamie said you can have a week to think about it before he looks for another person to fill the position.” He explained as he made his way inside, throwing a jacket over his shoulders. “There’s a spare key on top of the fridge if you need to duck out.” He shouted as he headed towards the front door. A quick goodbye was thrown over his shoulder, before the heavy door was pulled shut, and she was left by herself to digest all of this information.

She migrated back inside to sit on the couch as she flipped through the contract. He was right about it being a proper job offer. Everything was listed in these sheets of paper, from the amount of hours she should be expecting to work down to how she would have to filter any posts online about the band. The pay was… more than adequate. There were even clauses in there about the contract not locking her into any long-term agreements, she was free to leave when she wanted. It was a tempting proposition. She loved doing merch work, and she’d been doing it on and off for over a decade now. It made sense to take a leap into something more permanent than just taking jobs as they were offered to her during peak touring season. Controlling a whole merch operation for an entire band would be an interesting challenge to tackle, a rewarding one she suspected. But this was much bigger than just a job. It would mean uprooting her life at home, committing to a life on the road. And as much as he said that it didn’t, it did mean committing to Matty to a degree. Whether that was in the sense of a relationship or not, it meant that he was going to become a permanent fixture in her life. Was she certain she wanted that? She’d had less than twenty-four hours to come to terms with the fact that her feelings were actually reciprocated. And did _he_ actually want that? It was a while of her looking at the pages before Allen came to find her; the big dog padding into the living room and watching her with curiosity. She read and re-read certain clauses as he jumped up on the couch and rested his head in her lap, trying to find something that would either seal the deal or break it. But in the end, it was her decision to make. She had to weigh up the pros and cons and decide what was going to give the best outcome.

* * *

Matty made it to the studio a bit breathless, having half jogged there in an effort to not be _too_ late. They were meeting with someone to sort out the pressing of the album on vinyl, and the meeting had started fifteen minutes ago. He exchanged a few quick greetings with the people mingling around the front of the building before making his way down to the back room where he knew the rest of his band would be waiting for him.

“So sorry!” He blurted out as he stepped into the room. “Time got away from me this morning.”

“Not like you to be late.” George stated, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. Matty could hear the teasing tone underlying his voice.

“Yes, well…” He tried to think of a witty comeback as he shrugged his jacket off. But he found himself coming up empty.

“Are they the same clothes that you were wearing yesterday?” Ross questioned, eager to jump onto this bandwagon.

“Did you sleep in those?” Adam chimed in.

Matty sat there in silence, running a few responses through his head. None of them were going to get him out of this. “So, we need to get Notes out as soon as possible,” He started, opting to change the topic instead. George sniggered a laugh under his breath.

The meeting went well. They organised that the vinyl could be out in a few months once they were ready to go ahead with the final master of the album. A few last administration bits and pieces were confirmed. They lined up their next few social media posts and when they would be posted. Things were really starting to come together. Once it was just the band left in the room, Matty finally felt the stress release from his shoulders. He knew he was about to receive a hard time from his mates, but at least now he wasn’t gonna have to let strangers in on his personal life. 

“Why were you actually running late?” George asked eventually. “Did you finally talk to her?”

The smile he was trying to conceal gave him away before he could even start talking, earning a chorus of approving noises from his friends. He waited until they’d calmed down for a second before he spoke. “Yeah, we’re on the same page now.” Matty nodded. “And I was going over the contract when you rang.” He added, gesturing towards Adam.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, man.” He apologised.

“It’s cool.” He shrugged. “I left it with her so she had a chance to read it.”

“And?” George urged.

“And what?” The lead singer frowned in confusion.

“Are you guys together now or what?” He clarified.

“Oh, erm, well…” Matty started hesitantly. He hadn’t had the chance to get to that bit this morning.

George let out a loud groan in annoyance. “You _still_ didn’t ask?”

“I didn’t want her to feel weird about it! Throwing the job offer _and_ that at her in one morning seemed like too much. I just told her that it didn’t matter if we were or weren’t, the position was separate to all that.” He explained. Adam nodded in agreement. “I was gonna get to that part once she knew if she wanted to join the team or not.”

“Well, we won’t keep you any longer then.” Ross said with a nod towards the door. “Go see what she has to say.”

* * *

The sun was beginning to set by the time she heard the front door lock click open. Allen instantly jumped off the couch next to her to bound towards the sound of the noise, and she heard Matty [greeting his dog eagerly](https://scontent.fper5-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/122804138_10218397762399575_2502981636883867588_n.jpg?_nc_cat=106&ccb=2&_nc_sid=0debeb&_nc_ohc=xwhKIUlDogMAX9MMluQ&_nc_ht=scontent.fper5-1.fna&oh=037724aac6084784aa9218af8a3a2ead&oe=5FBCF031) before seeing him step into the living area.

“Sorry, I tried to get out as quickly as I could.” He said, kicking his shoes off.

“How was the meeting?” She asked as he flopped down onto the couch next to her.

“Good, yeah.” He said with a nod. “We sorted out a few last things with Notes so it should be right to go soon.” He eyed the papers sitting on the table. “So, uh… how did you get on with the contract?” He asked, clearly anxious about her answer.

“It’s very… thorough.” She chuckled.

“George wrote it up with Jamie to make sure that all the legalities were covered and you had an out if ever you wanted one. We of all people know how rough this sort of lifestyle can be.” He should probably stop talking about the downsides of the job if he ever hoped for her to want to accept it.

“I went over it a couple of times, the job itself seems great. The only things that worried me were having to relocate my existing life at home to commit to living on the road with you lot. I don’t know if I could cram my life into a suitcase. And I’ve never handled something as major as this. There’s a lot to learn, with pretty high stakes involved and I’m sure I’ll be being thrown straight into the deep end.” She sighed, feeling the sense of dread at fucking it all up sitting at the back of her mind.

“However, despite of all of that, I’d like to take the job.” She grinned. He couldn’t help but match her smile as a wave of relief washed over him. When she’d started talking about the negatives, he was sure that it was going to lead to her turning the offer down.

“Welcome to the team.” He said, holding his hand out to her for a handshake. She laughed lightly before shaking it. “We’ll have to head down tomorrow to get all this finalised and tell the guys.” The excitement shone in his eyes.

“I look forward to it.” She replied.

“That just leaves one last question, then.” He continued, wanting to keep the ball rolling.

“Hm?”

“What did you want to do about us?” He asked as he tried to maintain his usual confident bravado, at least until this conversation was over.

“Ah, yeah… about that…” She sighed. His hours out of the house had also given her a lot of time to consider what she wanted out of all this - out of him. “Matty, you are quite possibly the most egotistical and arrogant person that I’ve ever met. You are relentless when you’re right, and just as difficult when you’re wrong.” These were things that he was already well aware of, but he couldn’t help the pang of hurt in his chest at having to hear them again. “And yet, for _whatever_ reason, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since we met.” She huffed. _What?_ “Which might be because despite the incredibly annoying traits that you possess, you also possess many redeeming ones. You’re passionate and kind and endlessly talented.” He could feel his cheeks warming slightly at her words. “You go to the ends of the earth for the people that you care for. You’re smart and funny and _fuck_. I don’t think I could continue ignoring my feelings for you, even if I _did_ want to.” She admitted as she ran a hand down her face in frustration. “Even at my most blindly stubborn, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself if I committed to being around you more than I already am. Especially after everything that’s happened since I got here.”

He considered what she was saying carefully. “What did you want our next step to be, love?” He asked, wanting to leave the ball in her court and not push her into anything. 

“I’d be keen to give a serious relationship a try if you were.” She answered bluntly. He let out a triumphant laugh. “Don’t get too cocky now that you managed to win me over.” She cautioned him, but her smile betrayed the warning in her words.

“Too late. That ship has long since sailed.” He said as he pulled her into a tight hug.

She hugged him back just as tight, glad to finally have it all out in the open. It was probably going to be a bumpy road ahead, with a million setbacks and challenges. But she was pretty excited to be facing those things with Matty by her side.

“To think, you got yourself into all this mess with a troubled musician just because you didn’t know how to reprint a t-shirt.” He scoffed as he pulled back. She could hear the joking tone in his voice, but the incessant need to correct him still bubbled to the surface.

“That is not at all what happened.” She argued.

“I’m fairly sure it is.” He nodded. “Pretty sure that I walked in there, you needed me for help with the shirts and then you begged me to hang out with you more.” He lied.

“I’m _certain_ that you are the one who bothered me to hang out with you more.” She shot back. The smirk on his face made it pretty clear that she’d just taken the bait. Again. “Stop being such a twat.” She laughed.

“You make it way too easy.” He replied with a chuckle before leaning down to kiss her.


	14. Yeah, It's You

It had been a few months since they’d agreed to give things between them a proper shot. It was almost debatable that the band were more excited about this development than Matty was. George especially, now that he was finally able to stop sitting through longing stares, angsty conversations and awkward flirting. Now at least it was _just_ the awkward flirting. But so far, it was going very well for the two of them. Y/N/N started the new merch gig after having a couple of weeks at home to get her things together. She met back up with the band in London before being briefed on her new role and then setting out on her first working tour. As expected, it was a steep learning curve that was very fast paced. It was hard for them to train her in advance since almost everything had to be taught while on the job. Given how busy Matty frequently was, Jamie helped her out where he could with keeping the books in order and getting in contact with venues about staffing before they arrived. But she performed well under pressure, and this was no exception. She took to the role like a duck to water. Her friendships with the band only got stronger now that she was playing an active role in their operations. They already enjoyed having her around, and now she was proving herself to be an invaluable member of their tight knit team. Matty frequently found himself feeling rather proud of how quickly she’d adapted to the new lifestyle. Living on the road wasn’t easy, but it was a lot easier when they got to do it together.

Notes on a Conditional Form dropped all of two hours ago and so far, the reaction had been mostly positive. A few people seemed to find the contrasting sounds throughout the album hard to deal with, and a few didn’t enjoy the amount of ambience, but Matty told himself that if they weren’t on board with that, then they probably shouldn’t be 1975 fans anyway. After immense amounts of hard work and ~~many~~ a few date pushbacks, it was finally out there in the public. They had decided to throw a small release party at George’s flat, inviting close friends, family, the usual 1975 crew and a few select people from the industry to celebrate. Once it was confirmed that the tracks had gone online without a hitch – and they’d listened to the album front to back – the party truly kicked off. Now that they knew the fans enjoyed it, the weight was lifted off the band’s shoulders. They could finally unwind a bit. Matty was already a few drinks in, his usual party attitude coming out in full swing tonight to rejoice at seeing his project come to fruition. He’d convinced the band to take shots whenever they heard their favourite track on the album. It turned out he had many favourites. Y/N/N was finding it nice to finally see him take a break. He’d been overworking himself for the last couple of months between being on tour and the album release coming up, but now, back at home, surrounded by his friends and family, he seemed relaxed at last. She was knocked out of her trance of staring at Matty mingling around the party by Ross calling her name, noticing her empty cup and suggesting that she go to the bar to get both herself and him a refill. Taking his cup with a nod, she headed towards the pop-up bar in the kitchen.

“Can I get you a drink?” The bartender asked with a smile, leaning against the bar as she approached.

She took a seat, “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind a vodka and-” She started rattling off the order she had prepared in her head.

He let out a short laugh, interrupting her train of thought. “No, I mean like… somewhere else.” He paused as he waited for her to pick up the hint that he was dropping. “The two of us.” He continued.

Oh. _Oh_. The sudden offer caught her off guard, but she quickly regained composure, “Ah, thanks but no thanks.” She said with a polite smile.

“I’m sure I could show you a good time.” He pressed.

“I’m not.” She shot back. He frowned at that. “And I think that Matty might have a few things to say about that.”

“Who?” He scoffed, still trying to play it cool. She gestured to the promotional poster hanging on the wall behind the bar.

“Uh, second from the left, the one with the curly hair.” She watched as the bartender’s face visibly paled while he studied the poster. A few nonsensical syllables tumbled out of his mouth before he excused himself from the bar and walking back inside looking very flustered. She chuckled under her breath.

She saw out of the corner of her eye as her boyfriend leaned against the counter next to where she was sitting at the bar. He took a drag on his cigarette before turning to her.

“What was that about?” Matty asked casually.

“I think you’ll have to watch yourself, Matty. I’ve got an admirer.” She warned him, gesturing in the direction that the guy had rushed off to.

“Oh, really?” He mused as he took a sip from his drink, his gaze following hers. “What makes you so sure?” He added as he looked back to her.

“He tried to seduce me.” She confirmed with a nod.

“The nerve.” He gasped. “Did he succeed?” He asked, the humour evident in his eyes.

“Oh, for sure.” She deadpanned. “It’s all set up and ready to go. We’re meeting at midnight.” She answered.

“Well… Can’t fault his taste.” Matty shrugged before leaning down to kiss her briefly. “C’mon, grab a drink and let’s go find the guys.” He grinned.

“Where’s my drink?” Ross frowned as the two of them walked back over to the little spot in George’s backyard that the band had claimed as theirs. She handed him one of the two bottles of beer she had grabbed instead.

“The bar wasn’t open.” She lied, hearing Matty laugh quietly beside her. The five of them continued bullshitting for a while, yapping on about the reviews coming in online and the people who passed them by throughout the party. After a little while Matty found his glass to be oddly empty.

“You should go get me another drink.” The lead singer stated seriously, holding his empty glass out to his girlfriend. There was a bit of a drunken slur to his words but she knew from experience that he was still quite a few drinks away from being wasted.

“You’re not the boss of me.” She frowned. He leaned against her, humming in contemplation.

“Last time I checked, I thought I kind of was?” He pointed out with a loud laugh.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to think of a comeback to that, only to come up empty. He was right, he pretty much _was_ her boss. “Shut up.” Was the best she could muster in the end, earning a smug grin from him. “Also, if I go back over to the bar that handsome gentleman might just steal me away from you.” She reminded him. He nodded in agreement at that.

“That’s true.” He resigned with a sigh. “Then _I’m_ gonna go get another drink.” Y/N/N watched as he stood up from the couch and started making his way to the bar. Only to look on helplessly as a beer bottle flew across the living area and collided with the side of Matty’s head instead of the bin it was intended for.

George and Y/N/N had both seen the incident that seemed to go unnoticed by the rest of the party and jumped up instantly to help him. The bottle shattered as it hit the floor next to him, which caught the attention of a few other people. Matty spewed a loud string of curses as his hand instantly flew to the area of impact, cradling it as he kept walking to the bar.

“Bloody hell. Are you okay?” George asked urgently as he rushed over.

“Matty, sit down.” She urged, pulling on his arm to get him to sit back down on the couch.

“It’s fine, guys.” He said as he shrugged them both off. “I’ll just get my drink and be back in a minute.”

“You just copped a bottle to the head, mate.” The drummer said, feeling the need to restate it as if the matter hadn’t figuratively (and literally) sunk through his skull yet. “You shouldn’t be drinking more right now.”

“Really, it’s not a big deal.” He huffed as he continued on his way to the kitchen.

“Matt-” George tried to reason with him, but he only kept walking. He figured he could leave him in Y/N/N’s trusty hands as she followed after him.

“Will you stop for a second?” She asked, the concern evident in her tone.

He spun around to face her, “I’m _fine_.” He spat back angrily as he scratched at the side of his head. As he lowered his hand, the two of them both saw the blood on his fingers. He wiped it away quickly on his jeans. “It’s not as bad as it looks-” He argued as he tried to move away again.

“Can you please just listen to me?” She begged as she caught his arm, trying her best to stop him.

“It’s really nothi-”

She grabbed the tie around his neck, yanking it down so that he was eye level with her. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at her force. This was potentially quite serious and she was done being polite about it. “ _Matty_.” She said through gritted teeth. “Bathroom. Now.”

“Yes. Sorry.” He mumbled, still wide-eyed and concerned as he let her lead him towards the nearest bathroom.

She pulled him down the corridor through to the guest bathroom. As she pushed him inside, she locked the door behind them to give her enough time to properly examine how bad his wound was. “You, here.” She ordered as she jumped up to sit on the vanity to be taller than him, instructing him to stand in front of her under the light. Carefully, she moved his hair aside to try and find where the impact was. As she parted his hair around the injury he hissed loudly in pain.

“Be careful.” He grumbled.

“Didn’t you literally just say ‘it’s not that bad’?” She mocked, seeing how deep the cut was. It didn’t appear to be _too_ serious, but it was hard to tell with how thick his hair was. The wound was still bleeding enough for it to be concerning. “You might need stitches.” She added.

“Don’t want stitches.” He debated.

“It’s not about if you _want_ them-”

“Don’t you always talk about [how much you love my hair](https://d.wattpad.com/story_parts/863799553/images/16051ad393a92469910982917599.gif)? They’d have to shave it to give me stitches.” He retaliated. She didn’t reply, making him laugh lightly. He winced as the vibration of it hurt his head a bit. After some slight shuffling around on the counter, she pulled her phone out of her pocket.

“Look here.” She said as she gestured to the torch on her phone. He did as she told him, looking into the bright light. She was no doctor, but she had enough common sense and past experience to know that they shine a light in your eyes to check that your pupils dilate correctly, and if they don’t, you’ve likely got a concussion. His seemed to be responding fine. That was good, at least.

He looked up at her through his mess of hair pulled into his eyes as she worked away at cleaning his injury. It tugged on his heart strings a bit. This girl truly cared about him, and had done since they’d met. She worried about his personal space the day after they’d met at the café, she worried about him after that shitty interview he’d had, she worried about him when he got sick on tour, when he wasn’t in a good mood, when he was overworked, when he got a bottle thrown at his head. He’d done very little until recently to earn her attention and concern, and yet she’d given it to him anyway. Even when he was a complete dickhead she _still_ pulled through for him. Fucking hell. What had he done to end up with someone like that in his life? His heart swelled as he remembered the last time that she’d been in London with him, when she had agreed to take the job and - for whatever reason that he still wasn’t quite sure of - to date him. 

“Hey,” He called, trying to grab her attention. She mumbled a noise of response. “I love you.” He said bluntly. He stayed quiet, patiently holding out for a reply, but she just kept examining his scalp. “Aren’t you gonna say it back?” He asked eventually.

She let out a deep sigh, pushing his hair back out of his eyes. “For fuck’s sake. Of _course_ , I love you, Matty.” She huffed as she moved back to meet his gaze. Despite the instantly overwhelming feeling of joy, he waited for her to continue. “What I don’t love is you being stubborn about things like having a head wound.” She said with a pointed look. “But I’ve been steadily falling harder for you since you conned me into seeing you again after that first show.” She chuckled, leaning her forehead against his.

“I wouldn’t say I _conned_ you.” He argued with a grin. “More… allowed you the opportunity you were clearly dying for.” He rephrased. She shook her head but couldn’t help the goofy smile and blush that found its way onto her features.

“Sure, if that’s how you wanna remember it.” She shrugged, moving her hands to his shoulders. She was satisfied for now that he was probably going to be fine.

“Well, _I_ knew I was falling for you when you got up and jumped around on stage with me that first day.” He said with a cocky tone to his voice.

She gave a loud laugh at that. “No, you damn well didn’t.”

“How do you know?” He scoffed.

“I do talk to the rest of the band. You know that, right?” She asked. He nodded, laughing slightly. “And it’s not a competition, anyway.”

“Everything’s a competition, love. You know that.” He said lowly, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer to the edge of the counter.

He brought a hand up to her cheek as he pulled her lips down to meet his. It seemed that no matter how many times she kissed Matty, it still hit her just as hard as the first time she had. Or perhaps even harder given that her brain was slightly foggy the first time. Every time their lips met it pushed her nervous system into overdrive. She brought a hand up to his hair, forgetting that he had a gash on the side of his head and accidentally pulling the hair near it. He hissed in pain for a second, getting a muffled ‘sorry’ in response as she moved her hand. But he used her distraction as an excuse to deepen the kiss and edge her closer along the counter to him. The thing was that Matty was right, everything was _always_ a competition with him. And she had learned that this particular competition involved who was going to back out first. Theoretically, the competition didn’t really have a loser per se, but she knew all too well where this was going. People would probably come looking for them soon to check in on how he was doing.

She pulled away from him slightly, feeling like the temperature in this room had increased a few degrees in the last couple of minutes. “Are you just trying to get in my pants?” She accused him with a frown.

“Depends, is it working?” He challenged, moving in to kiss her again.

“I’m not fucking you in a stranger’s bathroom.” She said as she moved away.

“It’s George’s bathroom.” He shot back.

“That’s not what you’re meant to take away from that.” She laughed.

“But it _is_ what I’m taking away from that.” He argued, raising his eyebrows with a suggestive grin. She rolled her eyes.

“Later.” She smiled, hopping down from the counter and stepping around him.

“Is that a promise?” He asked mischievously as he followed her out of the bathroom.

As the party started winding down, things began getting quieter in the house. The guests made their way home, bottles were tidied up, the music was switched off. Eventually the five usual crew found themselves sitting in George’s lounge room watching a movie to close out the evening. It was nice to round out such a momentous occasion with something so simple. The drinks had stopped now, the chatting between them had become pretty infrequent, the friends happy to sit in the comfort of the TV. It wasn’t until Matty’s eyes started slipping shut that the conversation picked up again. “You’re not allowed to fall asleep.” Y/N/N said as she nudged his shoulder.

“But it’s three in the morning.” Matty groaned.

“You might have a concussion; you need to stay awake for at least a bit longer.” Adam reminded him.

“My head hurts.” He complained loudly, rolling over to press his face into the couch.

“Because you have a concussion” Ross chimed in.

“No, it’s because the music in this movie is awful.” He huffed, jabbing an accusatory finger towards the screen. “Who scored this shit?”

“I’m _fairly_ certain it’s because you copped a bottle to the head, Matt.” George said with a laugh.

“I could score something way better than this.” Matty continued, opting to ignore everyone’s concern and continue on his own tangent. That piqued everyone’s interest.

“Oh?”

“Yeah!” He shouted as he sat up, suddenly motivated. “I could write for an Oscar winning movie by… 40.” He declared, before quickly changing his mind. “No! 35.” He amended.

“There is no way you can do that.” Ross said with a sigh, shaking his head. “You’re already 31.”

“Not in between all your other shit you take on.” George added.

“I absolutely can.” He argued defiantly.

“Matty, that’s a bit ridiculous.”

“I could score a movie, and it’ll win awards for its soundtrack.” He said with a scoff, sweeping his arms in a grand motion to emphasise his point.

“Bet you can’t.” She said simply with a shrug. Those words shot through him like a bolt of electricity. The challenge felt like his brain had just kicked up a gear. But when he looked across the couch at her, the look in her eyes told him she knew _exactly_ what she was doing. 

“Just fucking watch me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnd that’s it! I hope you guys enjoyed reading it half as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you so, so much for the support each week - it has made my day each and every time. It’s a shame that this story had to end… but… when one door closes, another opens, right? So as much as _my_ Matty fic has reached it’s end, my good friend [Red__Moon’s is just beginning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25129759)! I’ve had the absolute pleasure of a sneak preview of a few of these chapters and phwoa… if you thought mine was any good? You are gonna be in for a wild ride, my friend. It’s another slowburn, so you’ve got another good few weeks of Matty-based-reading ahead! Thanks again for your endless kind words.


End file.
